


I Know U So Well (No Homo)

by jaylanic



Category: Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - College/University, First time talk, Jealousy, New York City, Pillow Talk, Roommates, Storytelling, angst with happy ending, hella fellatio, non sexual intimacy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-06
Updated: 2018-07-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 19:42:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 98,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12637881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaylanic/pseuds/jaylanic
Summary: Liam wants to get to know his roommate better. Zayn doesn't have anything anyone needs to know. Except for his rules. No Taylor Swift or la Traviata after 6 p.m. No touching his stuff. No testing him and most important, no homo. Unless you're Liam. No touching Liam either.





	1. The meeting

**Author's Note:**

> I thought I'd exercise my ability to write a simple short story here. As in actually short and not 100,000 words. Minimal characters and minimal plot by very in-depth with that.
> 
> So far, it's at 60K. My goal I'm trying to reach is cutting it down to 50K and 5 chapters and since my illiterate self is editing this, errors are ahead. All that being said, this is my 3rd and last time (for a while anyway) doing Zayn as this trope. The classic "asshole falling for the dork". (Not my last Zayn story. Fyi every story I put on here, Zayn will 100% be the main focus)
> 
> Zayn's nationality in this is a little bit unclear for a while (as well as a few other personal things) but, that's kind of the main base/foundation of the story. Everything gets cleared up the more Liam gets to know him.
> 
> The title is named after a song by Xfruge and Shiloh Dynasty of the same name (just without the no homo) and the concept is based off a short film called "After Sex". The film is an hour-long compilation of 8 different couples having conversations, generally revolving around what they talk about before and/or after sex (or some form of it).
> 
> Zayn and Liam are based loosely off Nikki and Kat, in that order which involves a lot of oral and experimenting but also, really heavy conversations before and after. You'll know what I mean when they talk to each other.
> 
> I can't find the full 10-minute scene I based their characters off of online anywhere but if you want the reference, some of it is broken up into short clips on youtube if you search "Nikki and Kat - After Sex".
> 
> If you know me, I'm very elaborative so, after watching the movie version you'll notice right away that my version is very different from the original scene (which takes place in just a few hours vs. a whole year in this). So this is practically a whole different story altogether. The progression of Liam and Zayn's relationship actually happens in 1 day just like Nikki and Kat but, Liam keeps having flashbacks of their time together from the first day they met to where they currently are throughout this 1 day. When I say it's LOOSELY based off Nikki and Kat, I really mean the emphasis on loosely. Like a high-way hooker in middle America loose. But that's just my style :)
> 
> Hope ya like it! x

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam and Zayn walked into a party. Out came fate.

✯✯✯

 

 

 

✯✯✯

 

**i. The meeting**

 

"So, we finally meet."

 

Liam has been waiting for this moment for 6 months.

 

He found it under his bunk. This weird, alien device made of plastic and liquid that Liam has been warned not to touch, finally making its long-awaited debut. It’s got two heads, another neck coming out of it… the whole works.

 

"You're pretty ugly, I must say."

 

Now Liam knows why he hides it. It looks like a dildo - man's rival.

 

 _"No homo?"_ Liam snorts quietly now.  _"Bollocks."_

 

By under the bunk, Liam means deep in Zayn's drawer in the bottom bunk where he sleeps. He tends to go snooping in here every once in awhile when he's bored, even if he's breaking Zayn's rules.

 

 _"There’s nothing to be ashamed of, buddy… no one’s judging you.”_ Liam murmurs to himself as he turns the thing over with a pencil.

 

The liquid inside of it shifts, the dripping sound reminding him of something vaguely gooey and sensual and making his insides tingle.

 

His back straightens up as he pauses from a fishy feeling inside. He changes his mind, now taking out his phone and snapping a picture of it.

 

He needs a second opinion. Or 4.

 

 _“... alright… maybe I'm judging you a little.”_ He says as he sends it to his gossipy group chat to investigate.

 

**Liam: what does this look like to you guys?**

 

Their replies are instant since they were already in the middle of a conversation. They always drop everything when Liam drops in.

 

**Leigh-Anne: YOU GOT A DILDO? ASDFGHJKL BOY TF ARE YOU GUYS DOING OVER THERE????**

 

**Jesy: more like gravity bong…**

 

**Jade: idk**

 

**Perrie: dildo? Liammmm hahahahaha**

 

**Leigh-Anne: can I come watch?**

 

**Jesy: it’s a BONG**

 

**Leigh-Anne: Okay auntie dildo ^^**

 

**Jade: wth are you smoking with sth like that Jes?**

 

**Leigh-Anne: literally smokin dick**

 

Liam mutes the chat again and Google images bongs now. 

 

These things seriously look like glass dildos. But, Zayn's isn't made of glass.

 

He glances up from the ground at the black and white poster on the wall inside Zayn’s bunk inquisitively. 

 

  It's displaying Gigi Hadid, posing as a busty playboy bunny in a fur coat on a New York City highrise rooftop. Her curly blonde hair is blowing in the wind as she's groping her breasts with long acrylic nails, riddled with innuendo.

 

It's the token glamorous blonde, Zayn's favourite, serving some serious neck and nipple action busting through her top at the camera. Based off all the girls Liam sees him usually going for, it's pretty much Zayn's exact type. Skinny blondes with perfect faces and even more perfect tits.

 

It's such a contrast to Liam's side, where there's CD's and albums lined on his desk and a Warhol painting on the wall inside his own bunk that he got from an art gallery he went to the first week he moved here. 

 

Aside from wanting to take it down, Liam always looks at Zayn's cheesy poster and asks himself if that's  _really_ what Zayn gets off to.

 

All Liam knew for sure about what Zayn's kinks are is his obsession with blondes that look like Gigi (enough to wake up to her face every morning) and getting his dick sucked. But, that wasn't saying much because what guy doesn't like girls that look like supermodels (aside from Liam) and getting blowjobs? 

 

He snorts as he reads the poster's title in his head in a deep, sexy stewardess' voice.

 

_P l e a s e   E n j o y   Y o u r   S t a y_

 

Liam sure hopes Zayn enjoys  _whatever_ this thing is, thoroughly. He is not gonna kink shame him. He just wants to know what Zayn does with this. 

 

If this is his bong, Liam doesn’t want to bother it and risk getting high as he carefully probes it without making skin contact. He’s heard  horrors stories about getting high.  He's heard something about people getting a contact high before (give him a break, he doesn’t know how drugs work).

 

He can’t be too careful. He's learned that Americans are a whole different breed when it comes to this kind of stuff. You don't need to smoke to get fucked in the head. Last semester, someone sold a bad batch of edibles that had their entire floor ready to jump out their three-story windows due to everyone thinking they had wings. 

 

If it  _is_ a dildo… (which Liam had suspected it was due to its secrecy and now… tubular function) Liam can’t fathom when the hell Zayn would have private time to ever use it.

 

Zayn is almost never alone.

 

If he's not in their room, he's with his friend Harry or at the skatepark around the corner with all the other sk8ter bois. If he's not skating, he's playing chess with the elderly in the park. If he's not with them, he's at a party somewhere, making out with a random blonde cause that’s his type. If he's not partying, he's getting paid to tutor other NYU students in the library. And if he's doing none of the above… Liam is probably sucking his dick. 

 

All in all, if “bong” really  _is_ code for dildo, then Liam just hit the jackpot of knowing everything about Zayn he needed to be confirmed. Every question answered. Not just his kinks. This is so much more than that.

 

On a contradictive note, Liam also finds a few playboy porn mags, more Gigi Hadid magazines next to tissues and lotion (so he does get off on that... and  _gross)_ , magnum condoms and royal blue Tahitian pearls attached for what Liam thinks might be rosary beads. Or anal beads. Liam can use his imagination and only hope.

 

It's like he's just entered the twilight zone, cause it all could point to two different extremes.

 

Either Zayn is the “straight Catholic” or the opposite here in this drawer. Honestly, hoping for the opposite is just wishful thinking completely up to the imagination at this point.

 

See, Liam still didn’t know Zayn despite the fact that they’ve been roommates since freshman year. He did _…_ but not really the way he wanted to. He knew a lot more about him than most people but, it wasn't enough.  

 

There were other things Liam needed to know. Even basic stuff like his race or religion (which Liam still doesn't know for sure because Zayn is ethnically ambiguous as hell and looks nothing like his redhead, pale-faced mother).

 

Other more important questions that need answers, what was the meaning of what they did with each other? What it meant for Zayn and why he did it with Liam at all. Not just sexually. 

 

They don't just fool around when they're alone. They hung out too. Way more than what roommates typically do but, he doesn't even know if that means they're friends or just two dudes that did things with each other outside of their room purely out of convenience.

 

 _Lot's_ of things, all over the city. In public and in private.

 

They go to the same parties, leave those same parties together. Study in the library together, whether it's in a group or just the two of them. Liam watches Zayn skate in the park. Zayn sometimes lets Liam drag him to wine tastings... and Liam gave amazing blowjobs.

 

Someone to run errands with and get orgasms from. Convenience... or something deeper?

 

For people who don't like to be alone, it was the perfect set-up despite how different their tastes were. It's always nice to do things with someone you know. Even if it's just simply running errands.

 

Zayn and Liam were both those type of people so naturally, they fell into the habit of keeping each other company in an otherwise lonely city, which was ironic. Extroverts finding loneliness in an over-crowded city was a strange occurrence. It makes Liam think maybe they didn't find it in the city. That maybe... they found it in each other. Something they felt the day they met that drew them towards one another. 

 

One thing Liam will never change his mind on. Meeting Zayn felt like serendipity.

 

How often do you hook up with someone that later turns out to be your roomie? Better yet, how often does that same person save your life the same day?

 

Maybe Liam is a bit of a drama queen but that day was more than just a sweaty hook-up. Even if the memory is a little fuzzy from being a bit intoxicated, he felt something in Zayn that was more than just sexually driven. 

 

He still wouldn't say he really knew Zayn outside of that despite everything. There are people you know and people you  _know_. Everyone “knew” Zayn. Liam just wanted to know him  _well_.

 

Everyone knew that Zayn was That Douchebag™ with the attitude. Quite the opposite of Liam, the art major who loved wearing turtlenecks to art galleries, drinking wine in bathtubs and watching Sex and the City on weekends with his girlfriends.

 

Zayn was that guy that no one has ever seen awake in 8 a.m. class that always smelled like some generic brand of allspice, men’s deodorant or hair gel (they all smell the same). When he's awake, he's always in a pissy mood. He's that guy you don't want crashing your party. His main accessories are typically a flask in his back pocket and the same cigarette as yesterday behind his ear. He can be found usually rolling through the neighbourhood on a skateboard with high-top vans and his faded denim jeans rolled up at the ankles.

 

All of these types in this city seem to trade these same style tips in whatever meeting ground they ensconced themselves in. Always wearing denim jackets or the same obscure band tees with the same plaid button-ups over that and charmingly ripped jeans to voice the distress they held inside. You're sure they could use a new stylist but, still commend them for their unoriginal, originality.

 

They all network in skateparks throughout the city where they coexisted in happy chaos and thick clouds of pot smoke.

 

The first thing you notice about this guy is the near permanent smoulder in his dark, cat eyes that kind of scared you. You're sure he practised this look by scowling into space in his free time. But the way they also sparkled and glowed amber like honey in softer lighting seemed natural, turning their spicy glint into something thoroughly sweet on rare occasions. And on even more rare occasions, seeping low and hollow like the soul of a lonely old ghost.

 

You fantasise about him being a softy at heart, maybe spending his day doing things like strumming his guitar or writing poetry. You think he might be putting up some kind of front at first because he maybe got his heart broken in his younger, more tranquil days or something of that nature. Until you meet other people that know him and realise you're completely wrong as he’s been like this his whole life and is now usually doing recreational drugs, drinking like a fish with his other douchebag friends and going home with a different victim every other night.

 

Despite your distaste with his offensive language and patronising smirk or wink he awarded you with when he complimented your hair or teased you about your taste in music, you have an invariably large crush on Douchebag™, even if you know you shouldn't.

 

He is the dreamiest guy in your building, indubitably. And you hate the son of a bitch for making you fall in love before you're even 20 years old. Sublime wit and zany accent with his dumb eye freckle too cute not to capture your whole heart after a week or two. Or after the first words you hear out of his cigarette dangling lips.

 

“You” being Liam Payne.

 

But, Liam is not in love with Zayn. At least, he doesn’t think he is. He's definitely never hated Zayn. He can't hate someone that means something to him. He just hasn’t figured out what his definition of Zayn really is yet. Not until he knows Zayn's definition of _them_.

 

Aside from Liam's perfected technique in the art of fellatio, he also prided himself on being really good at reading and defining people within the first 5 seconds of meeting them. It was a talent, really. So Zayn being this hard to figure out after  _this_  long was seriously frustrating and hard work. Liam prefers to have his definition in 5 seconds. Not one whole year of "please stand by".

 

Zayn's one of those people with 100 brick walls up you had to chip away at to reach. Just with him, you could easily chip your way to a glory hole but it stopped there so you weren't getting very far.

 

Liam has got much further than a glory hole by now, even without snooping through his belongings. They got passed there the first day of meeting each other. Or as some might call it, 3rd base. But that still didn’t really give much away when it was all in the conduct of ‘no homo’ and under the influence of vodka.

 

They didn’t meet in their room like literally everyone else on their floor did.

 

The first few weeks of the semester, Zayn wasn’t in his own room at all. Just all of his belongings. Like, he’d unpacked an hour before Liam moved in and then immediately camped out elsewhere for two weeks straight. Liam still to this day has no clear idea where Zayn was. Sleeping in the street or in a different victims bed every night, who knows.

 

They met at a frat party in the neighbourhood.

 

Considering how many events go on in Brooklyn Heights daily, them running into each other on this block was purely by chance.

 

The irony that Liam ended up giving Zayn 2 blowjobs that night, one being in a literal closet before they even knew who they were to each other. Looking back, that night cemented what he was going to be doing with his roommate for the next year or so and why he credits it all to serendipity.

 

It all started with that damn keg, 1 year ago. 

 

It was in a crowded kitchen. Mellow [tunes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=evDzcXGRLN8), misty humidity and sweaty rhythm infused into the air along with the liquor on everyone’s breath but Liam's. It managed to take his slightly nervous gait into a wobbly squirm around their mingling bodies as if he was getting tipsy just off the atmosphere and overlapping conversations mixing around in the air.

 

He figured if he was going to get drunk, he may as well get a real drink. College students here seemed to have a real ugly obsession with either cheap beer or wine. Or at least, something they  _called_ "wine" that Liam felt tasted more like highly corrosive acid diluted in water cause that shit was even cheaper than the beer and could surely set fire to curtains.

 

But, he wanted to adapt to the culture thoroughly so, he needed to stop being bourgeois and enjoy the shitty beer in the keg just like all the other broke uni students. Even if Liam wasn't at all broke courtesy of his parents sending him weekly allowances still (see: thousand dollar Warhol and Basquiat art pieces hanging around his side of the room), still. Liam might've been into fine art and fine wine, but this was time to experience something new.

 

The joys of a Frat party.

 

The wannabe bodyguard supplying the alcohol didn’t seem to like the look of Liam very much.

 

“Yo… you new here?” The burly jug head in a letterman jacket that was minding the keg questioned Liam when he went to get a beer.

 

He’d managed to get singled out of a huddled crowd of about 30 other people waiting their turn to get their drink refilled as well. When his eyes landed on Liam, there was suddenly a problem.

 

Liam could already tell what type he was handling in less than 3 seconds. A new record. The kind of prick with a brick for a head that started trouble he knew he'd get away with.

 

Keg-heads eyes were icily boring into Liam and telling him not to even ask to get his cup filled. He looked Liam up and down with a upturned nose like he smelled garbage nearby.

 

Liam didn’t understand how he always managed to get singled out of crowds like he was different from everyone else.

 

He didn’t know anyone at the party so, he wasn't really talking that much. His outfit wasn't that outstanding, just jeans and a black hoodie (except for his shoes, limited addition Christian Louboutins). But, keg-head didn't look like the fashion-forward type so it probably went over his head.

 

 So how did this guy know? Another question Liam had the majority of his life. How did everyone always  _know?_

 

Liam only wandered in here at all because there was a flyer about a keg party happening on the bulletin board in the lobby of his building that he took as an invitation. He’d decided it would be a nice way to mingle.

 

Big mistake. Flyers aren’t invitations. Someone physically telling you you’re  _invited_ was an invitation.

 

“I don’t know you.” He continued flatly, staring him down when Liam didn’t answer.

 

“First year?”

 

Liam nodded yes. Keg-head didn't look convinced.

 

He apparently wasn’t pouring Liam a drink until he gave some form of identification or proof that he was supposed to be here. As if the 100 other people buzzing around the house had all been individually verified to be on his list of worthy guests. Liam knew he had a baby face but, he never thought he'd be carded at a fucking frat party.

 

The very idea of taking out his wallet to show his I.D. to someone probably only 2 or 3 years older than him felt insanely stupid. Liam would rather tell him to go fuck himself with his dip-shit side part on his forehead.

 

Liam valued his mortal life a little too much to even dare.

 

 _"Freshmen at NYU, yes. Swear I'm not in high school."_  Liam tried to joke put keg-head squinted as if he couldn't hear Liam.

 

"Say that again?"

 

“What the hell is taking so long?” A guy behind Liam groans.

 

"Yeah, can we get a move on before it's all gone? This is the only keg here. We've only been waiting since last  _year,"_

 

“Don't get hysterical, there's plenty to go around," Keg-head tells them to their annoyance. "We’re just trying to work something out here.” 

 

He went on to fill their cups then, overlooking Liam's as obvious as possible again, right in his face.

  

“What year are you again?”

 

Liam knew  _exactly_  why this jerk was treating him like this in front of everyone. He really didn't care how old Liam was. He'd just filled some dorks cup that looked all of 15 years old.

 

It was the same reason everyone always had a distaste for Liam in high school. Even in low lighting, he could see through Liam like a plastic container.

 

Liam’s flame wasn't especially bright nor was his ensemble ever doused with rainbows and glitter and he was hyper-aware of his mannerisms, how he walked and talked....  _everything._ So, he didn't know what always gave him away still. It must’ve been a scent he carried that only straight assholes could sense near them. The token homo sent here for them to treat as inferior.

 

Liam always ignored the giant sign over certain areas that loudly stated “No Homo”. It was usually hanging over parties like these, locker rooms, high school washrooms, and LITERALLY blood donation centres. There was even one over the roof of his own house back home. Only he ignored that sign because, if he spent his life obeying the arbitrary rules of where he wasn’t allowed to go, he’d never leave his room.

 

 _“I’m in Mac,”_ Liam told him.

 

His soft-spoken voice was flushed out over the loud bass thumping against the walls but, this guy could definitely hear him just fine.

 

Mcdonald’s Hall was two short blocks away from here but, everyone only knew it as Mac. It was a fairly decent housing development that mostly only NYU students lived in because it was only one subway stop away from the Financial District and the most affordable place a student could find in this posh neighbourhood. And no self-respecting person would live in a building full of college students. They wouldn't get any sleep. Euphonious wails of stressed misery float up and down every corridor. 

 

He figured, maybe if he said where he lived, he’d let Liam slide after proving that he actually was a student and not some kid trying to score some booze. 

 

“You a Brit?” A light-skinned black girl beside him with springy long curls corkscrewed all down her back and ever wild eyes asked after overhearing him speak.

 

She had a nice smile even though Liam could tell she was bordering on plastered. He gathered that she was a bit of a rocker with her leather bralette in lieu of a shirt and thigh-high, shiny black boots. She looked like a dominatrix. Her eyes were unfocused and neon purple eyeliner a touch smudged around them but, she was probably always like that, even sober.

 

2 of her friends were facing against the counter, leaning on both sides of her. One blonde in a frilly, pink dress that was keeping her upright each time she tettered sideways while the other goth girl pulled down her plaid skirt that kept riding up, waiting their turn with Liam. It was like a little routine they had memorised like synchronised swimmers from the way they worked together so easily in place.

 

Within 5 seconds, he decides he likes them.

 

Liam smiled and bowed yes, letting a few people go ahead of him as they began to talk.

 

“International student?!” the blonde beamed wide. Her mouth moved animatedly and she talked fast. She was a Brit too with a Geordie accent. "Cause same!"

 

"Newcastle?" Liam guessed and she laughs.

 

"South Shields."

 

"Damn, I was close."

 

"No, it was good!" She laughed.

 

“Oh my God, I LOVE English accents. You guys are fuckin' adorable.” The rocker had an English accent too. The New Yorker kind that required a lot of lip action as well and non-existent enunciation of _"th"_  or  _"er"._

 

“Leigh-Anne thinks  _everything_ is adorable.” Her goth friend had a much more pronounced standard of American English.

 

Liam would learn she was called Jesy. She rolled her eyes at her drunk friend and Liam laughed as he introduced himself to Jesy from Tribeca, here in New York, Perrie from the U.K., and Leigh-Anne from here too.

 

"Well, we have a lot in common because I adore everything too!" He told them flamboyantly, making them laugh.

 

Alright, he admits sometimes his flame was brighter than usual. Liam knows who the fuck he is and he can't own that all the time. But he felt so comfortable around these girls, he didn't think they'd care.

 

Leigh went on to say something in English that sort of sounded like Spanish, which Liam had luckily taken in school for a few years,

 

He thinks it's something along the lines of,  _'What a charmer!'_ but, her accent didn't help.

 

It wasn't very good Spanish and it kind of throws Liam off for a moment to hear it come out of her mouth... because she didn't look Hispanic at all.

 

When Liam asks her where'd she learned Spanish, she laughed as she told him it was actually  _Spanglish_  on accounta the neighbourhood she grew up in, about 20 minutes away from here. She said she grew up around a lot of Puerto Ricans and Irish, all Catholics, which Liam found really wild.He'd never think of those two groups as a common community that have much of anything to do with each other.

 

He didn't understand the demographics of how a typical neighbourhood around here worked so, she quickly broke it down for him.

 

It was a large 3-blocked mixed neighbourhood, ranging from West Indians such as herself to Jewish and Irish people to non-white and white Hispanic people.

 

Her neighbours on the right of her complex were Nuyoricans and the ones above her, Irish. So, the block she grew up with either spoke Spanglish (which was a mixture of English and Spanish) or had a penchant for raging alcoholism.

 

Liam thought the close proximity of mixed cultures like that was pretty damn cool.

 

Leigh told him that was just the synchronicity of New York City. One of those rare places that could have two totally different worlds co-existing a mere 6 feet away from each other. World's that sometimes collided where outside, they were divided. Race and religion, culture and heritage all shared amongst each other in this melting pot of the Eastern Seaboard. 

 

"You're from London aren't you?" Perrie squinted at him. "Bloody metropolitan already,  _trust me_  it's easier there."

 

Sure, London was a cultivated place with all kinds of different culture that wore a lot of crowns too but, not like here. You could visit a hundred different versions of the city just walking up the street. And he loved it.

 

They quickly got into an in-depth conversation about where they lived although, Liam successfully avoids having to explain why he chose to live (or escape to) all the way across the Atlantic ocean rather than home as the girls told their stories. They’d soon be inviting him out to less chaotic parties with them in their neighbourhood where there was no line for a single keg, fine wine and best of all, where Liam wouldn’t be pushed around by assholes like the ones here. 

 

Just as they were making plans to maybe take Liam around sometime soon, like seeing Jesy and Leigh's 6g loft in Tribeca (they actually lived next to models and actors!), the jock spoke over them. He interrupts as he rolled his eyes at him after Liam even forgets he was standing there.

 

"Do you even know what frat this is?”

 

He swayed his head with his arms crossed, exasperated like Liam was the one making this entire exchange more complicated than it needed to be.

 

All he wanted was a goddamn drink.

 

He didn’t know or care what frat this was. He was ready to ditch the beer entirely for something stronger as this night was clearly going to need it.

 

“Here, you can just have hers.” Perrie shot the asshole a dirty look as she gave Liam the cup she just had filled since Leigh-Anne had enough for the night but, he snatched it back out of her hand.

 

“He doesn’t get shit until he answers the question.”

 

It was a question that was going to get Liam thrown out of here. If you can’t even say the name of the house you’re in, there’s no way an actual resident is letting you indulge with them, student or not.

 

He then dumps Leigh's drink into a sink nearby, ignoring their complaining as Leigh hits him in the arm.

 

He was so hostile, Liam wanted to ask what the hell his problem was only if he didn’t already know the answer.

 

The shitty beer was not worth it.

 

“You know, I actually think I’ve got this all mixed up.” Liam politely set down his empty cup on the counter with his lips held in, pressing his hands together after.

 

He’d decided that excusing himself was better than causing a scene. He put his hands in his back pockets as a gesture of surrendering and began to back away, telling the girls it was nice meeting them but, he needed to be on his way now.

 

“I must’ve gotten the wrong place.” He turns away.

 

“I’ll say.”

 

He runs right into a few more jug-heads that’d appeared through the slosh of bodies in the kitchen to flank their douchey friend who went back to filling others cups without question, now two guys in front of Liam and one behind him.

 

Liam didn’t look at them in the face for long. Eye contact could be seen as threatening and high school prepped him for what to do in this situation.

 

He concludes in all of 5 seconds: get the  _hell_ out of here.

 

“Where did you think this was? Hogwarts?”

 

None of the girls giggled at his lame attempt at making fun of Liam. But Liam did, snorting down at his shoes with his eyes closed. It was a nervous habit, laughing like this. He laughs when he's in shock, when he's sad, when he's mad. Just a laugh as he shook his head, almost crying at the utter corniness of their entire repartee.

 

They were just walking stereotypes. Probably not even half as buff if they were talking to someone their own size.

 

“Something funny?” The original keg-head addressed him again when Liam looked back up, the smile wiped off his face.

 

 _“No, no!”_ Liam assured him quickly with his hands up, eyes already darting around again for an escape route.

 

There was an empty pocket if space on his right, perfect for a trail that went straight into a foyer where the front door would be.

 

“I was -- I’m just gonna go--”

 

“You didn’t answer his question.” His friend behind Liam pointed out, now keeping Liam right where he’s standing.

 

“For crying out loud, Randy. Leave Liam alone.” Jesy scoffed and Randy waved her off and told her to shut up.

 

“I just asked him a simple question.” He tells them.

 

 _“What’s the name of this house?”_ Randy repeats now, slower.

 

A clear line was drawn. Liam wasn’t allowed to excuse himself. He might have walked in the door without permission but, he wasn’t going out of it the same.

 

Before he can accept his fate and get unceremoniously escorted out by the ankles, his saviour finally arrives.

 

 _“Alpha Epsilon Pi.”_ His voice came before his face.

 

Liam looked to his left to find him striding up with his hands in his pocket, swagger in his gait like this was his house.

 

“Stands for 1 asshole, 5 dicks and the mathematical equation to make all 16 of you fit into each other.”

 

Liam doesn’t know the Greek alphabet off the top of his head but, he’s pretty impressed he just made that up with the numerical English equivalent to each letter in theirs.

 

“Now, since I answered correctly, is everyone just standin' around in a drunken stupor or do I need a stick of dynamite to get someone’s attention for a goddamn drink?”

 

His hand on Liam’s shoulder bunches up his shirt and pulls him out of his way, out of the centre of this gag fest. It should’ve felt like a rude shove from someone with no manners but, the way his hand lingered on Liam’s side for longer than what was expected felt protective.

 

Instinctively, Liam melts under his touch like a safety blanket. He gently nudges Liam to the side then so he's standing over with the girls in safety. A soft nudge for Liam to stand in between Leigh and Jesy where he wouldn't be caught in a crossfire if a fight broke out.

 

It was a feel-good reassurance. Like it looked Liam in the eye with all the honesty in the world and told him he had nothing to worry about.

 

His spot in the middle is replaced with a cigarette scented, less burly douche.

 

He wasn’t any bigger than Liam but his attitude seemed to make him the biggest in the room. His hair was dark like his eyes and falling forward over his head, wearing a plaid shirt and annoyance on his face when he steps up to the keg man beside Liam and the girls.

 

His eyes were intense, standing out on his perfect face, touched with face bones that put even the best supermodels out there to shame. Intense eyes framed with well kept eyebrows, inch-long lashes that could bat against a hurricane and natural wing to his lids. Inside Liam's head, he can hear himself screaming Taylor Swift lyrics at the top of his lungs as he stares at him. 

 

_Y O U ' R E   S O   G O R G E O U S_

 

He holds up Liam’s empty cup he’s retrieved from the counter, dangling it in front of Randy’s face.

 

“You gonna pour me a drink or were you just there to pose?”

 

 _“Excuse you?”_ Randy pulls back in confusion, totally thrown as he’s still processing the name of his frat being smeared in the mouth of this asshole, giving him a look the asked who the fuck  _are_  you?

 

Liam wanted to know that too. Who was he and could he please touch Liam like that again.

 

It was the kind of nudge that felt just the right amount of casually supportive, something Liam wasn't at all used too. Even though he hadn't directly acknowledged Liam. Like he didn't really see him standing there, something Liam was  _very_  used to.

 

The cigarette in his mouth was lit, a trail of smoke emanating from him although Liam thinks he might've been smoking already even without the cigarette. The way his soft hands flicked it with such experience read that he’s been holding it in his mouth for a few years. His face was young but his energy wasn’t. Like he was older in spirit.

 

He was so unafraid. It made Liam feel unafraid of Jughead too and not ready to leave this party if only to have a little more time to admire his lips and the way his scruffy after shadow outlined them. They were an underrated facial feature.

 

He'd never seen someone so rudely, utterly  _GORGEOUS,_  it actually hurts. 

 

“Who the hell do you think you are that you can just cut the line and make demands?”

 

“Fucking  _Christ_ ,” Perrie looked at Randy in astonishment, also getting annoyed with this situation.

 

He put Liam’s empty cup into Perrie's hand for her to hold without asking her to.

 

“Zayn Jay Malik.” He gave a short smile with raised brows. “But some call me Fuckin' Christ.”

 

He winks at Perrie when he says that, making her giggle and holds her lip in.

 

Liam caught his mouth with a hand on Leigh's shoulder as he snorted the loudest. He'd feel embarrassed about it later. Zayn's name made quite a few people audibly gasp, somehow heard over the loud music whispering to each other that it was really  _him_ , making Liam wonder if he was some kind of local celebrity.

 

He was, in a way. Liam would soon learn that Zayn had been coming to frat parties in this neighbourhood since he was 14 years old and had a bit of a reputation in this borough. 

 

But before Liam knew all that, he thought he’d heard that name before somewhere else… but where?

 

Zayn's smirk disappeared, back into annoyed.

 

“Now, since you don't mind making me ask a 10th and final time. Will you fill this cup or do I have to do it  _for_ you?”

 

He takes the cigarette out of his mouth and puts it out in the counter like it's an ashtraythen behind his left ear, his brows raised as he waits for an answer. Or possibly, a challenge or opinion about the disrespect he just issued.

 

It was a simple gesture that spoke as loud as it would've if he'd actually yelled his threat. It made most of the room that’s murmuring around them goad with laughter and  _oohs_ that he doesn't even acknowledge.  

 

Zayn seriously did not give a single fuck.

 

At first, Liam thinks this boy is insane, embarrassing someone twice his size like this. But, he quickly realises that size was an illusion as keg heads confidence shrinks him.

 

He’s not insane. He is intimidating. His gaze alone that he hasn't broken once could surely stop a semi-truck. Even the dramatic way his lashes fanned when he blinked didn't soften his eyes. He clearly wasn’t someone who fucked around or got intimidated by much of anything. That dark glimmer in his eye looked like he was up for anything and whoever wanted to challenge him on that better think real hard before they try.

 

Zayn didn’t need a stick of dynamite to get anyone’s attention. He  _is_ the stick of dynamite. All eyes were already on him, waiting eagerly for him to explode, even some people getting ready to yell WORLDSTAR with the cellphones out. And his eyes are set on Randy. The eyes of a torpedo getting ready to fire at its target.

 

Randy laughs with a little less fire behind his tone now after Zayn's said his name. He seems to recognise him now, like he's just realised how the hell he's talking to. There’s a nervous clearing of his throat attached to his glance around the gawking crowd. He looks to his friend behind Zayn for the much-needed support he doesn't get as his frat "brother" has just blended into the crowd of onlookers. The other one beside him shrugs, unsure of what they’re supposed to do now.

 

“You better do what he says.” Perrie snorts with her hand on her hip and Zayn agrees, nodding towards her.

 

"She's smart. You better listen to Blondie or  _no one's_  gettin' a drink."

 

He pretty much had her panties in his hand by now. All Liam could think as he stared at Zayn was how massive his ego probably was. He could see the print of it in his skinny jeans.

 

It hasn't taken Liam very long to put together that Zayn was a New Yorker by its very definition, possibly the most in this room attitude-wise.

 

His accent wasn’t at all subtle. It kind of tickled Liam, like a broken melody kind of English.

 

The preponderance of him was more than just his voice, this attitude more than just self-important confidence. He walked with presence, thought with it and Liam imagined he probably fucked with it too by the way it had Perrie thirsting over him under his attention already. She knew who he was taking home with him.

 

 _“Look,”_ Randy sounds almost apologetic now like he's the one inconveniencing Zayn, lowering his voice below the music as he leans towards him.

 

“There are rules here we can’t break. The keg’s already getting dry.”

 

Liam and the rest of their stilled crowd looked over at Zayn, who is merciless as he seems to be on a real mission to make this guy eat his words when he steps up to the keg and moves it in a wide circle, sloshing around its contents, which seem to be nearly full.

 

He even pops the lid open and looks inside. The keg-heads do not dare check any boundaries.

 

“I guess you think the ocean is dry too,” Zayn comments with a nod before he stops moving it as his face clears.

 

“Whatever your made-up “rules” are, all the bullshit aside." He says seriously with his hands up.

 

"I know you probably get asked this a lot but, why’re you showin' your asses? This ain’t a pissin' contest.” Zayn jammed a thumb in Liam's direction as well as the girls. Translation basically asking them why they were fucking with a bunch of girls (and co.) and consequently fucking with  _Zayn_ which Liam found noble of him.

 

Most people see guys messing with girls, or even bullying someone in general and just stood there and watched. No one tries to stop them.

 

Zayn wasn't most people. He was a gem in a sea of ball-less sheep and Liam appreciated gems like him. He wished he knew him in high school. He gets the feeling Zayn would've defended him if he was around.

 

Randy’s friend finally speaks.

 

“We can’t give drinks to freshmen.” He admits honestly, which kind of shocks Liam that Zayn is also a freshman which made this his second week here and he’s already making juniors nearly piss themselves.

 

“You're below 20, you’re not supposed to be here, we could be evicted. No freshmen.” Randy tells him.

 

He looks directly at Liam now.

 

“And no  _fags_.”

 

Jesy holds Liam's hand now, muttering  _shit_ under her breath. Liam just looks at Zayn, like he’s just expecting him to react for everything at this point. His eyes look a little darker now.

 

 _"Yeah, that’s what I thought.”_  Zayn murmured, shaking his head as he took a drink out of one of the girls nearby hands, taking a sip with a grimace.

 

" _Also_ what I thought.” He spits it back into the cup in disgust and tosses it into the sink.

 

“As my dear old Crypt Keeper always said, if you're gonna have a party, you should serve it with hospitality. But since you're disrespectful enough to serve people this goat’s piss, I’ll just do myself a favour before I or anyone else ingests this shit.”

 

In one smooth movement, he unexpectedly proceeds to knock over keg so all the beer spills out onto the ground.

 

" _Zayn!"_ Jesy and Leigh both hiss sharply at him while everything else gasps, even the music.

 

Randy almost tries to react to stop it from spilling out but, Zayn's boot clamps down on top of it, keeping it in place as he leans down on his knee, just  _daring_  Randy to remove it now.

 

Someone in the crowd lets out a wild wail as if the emphasise the sheer craziness in Liam's head when they all back away to save their shoes. Some laugh. Some clap. Some shift uncomfortably. Jesy and Leigh-Anne glare at him like they're about to scold their little brother who's lost his mind and Liam… fuck, he’s in  _lov--_ infatuated.

 

Liam is  _in-fatuated_. As if he needed to know that Zayn had balls he'd really love to get acquainted with.

 

Confidence really was attractive. He didn't just wear it well. He owned the rights to it.

 

Randy nor any other guy that lives here witnessing this even try to pick it up anymore or go off on him. Seeing that no one else is going to do it, Zayn removes his foot and picks up the keg himself, continuing to shake out its contents to the floor at Randy's feet, staring at Randy the whole time with a blank expression as Randy gapes back at the entire ordeal until all 200 bucks of their cheap beer is pooled on his Timbs and the ground.

 

Zayn seems to get bored with the action now, dropping the thing in the pool so the rest spills out on its own and reaching into his back pocket for a silver flask he swiftly opens to take a swig from, nodding towards Randy as he licks his lips.

 

“Keg’s dry now.” He tells him with a belch as he reaches for Perrie’s hand and turns away with her enthusiastically trailing behind with her hand on his shoulder. He looks back at Jesy briefly, his eyes a little softer in the light now.

 

 _"Watch her, Jesy._  No more drinks. _"_  His tone sounded like a brother now as he gestures to Leigh-Anne with his flask and Jesy nods silently.

 

Zayn looks back at Randy with a hard expression. His eyes are almost scary to look into directly, dark as ever.

 

"Fuck with them again and it's on your  _skull_." 

 

Liam shivers at the vibration in his voice.

 

That's not a threat. It's a  _promise._

 

Zayn struck him as the type to stay true to his word.

 

Someone in the foyer is already talking about leaving this shitty party for the one next door that had a keg that  _wasn’t_ dry.

 

“You guys got some real booze in this joint or a problem, let me know. You know where I live.” He says as he walks away.

 

Then under his breath to Perrie. 

 

_"Dickheads."_

 

And as simple as that, he’s gone with his blonde. And Liam’s breath.

 

Son of a bitch didn't look in Liam's direction once and he had him.

 

Liam watched him go back from whence he came, drinking from his flask because who is he kidding. Zayn didn’t stop whatever he was doing because he wanted a drink. He did it to save the girls, who seem to know him.

 

Now Randy and his idiot posse are shamed into leaving to clean up the mess. Or possibly to keep their faces down from the humiliation of being visited by hurricane Zayn. The footage taken by the dozens around them is sure to go viral within the next few hours.

 

"Last time, he pissed in it. Remember that?" Jesy asks Leigh-Anne, who rolled her eyes as they step over the mess with Liam in hand. He helps Leigh's other side now, replacing Perrie.

 

"He's done that before?" Liam asks and they both nod.

 

"Sophmore year of high school, Benny Schwartz threw a pool party and Z peed in the keg cause he called Leigh a bitch," Jesy tells him, shaking her head as they go into the foyer.

 

"Yeah, he pissed in it,  _es la verdad_ but, don't try to make him sound like some hero, okay?" Leigh makes clear that she does not condone that kind of behaviour. "Just cause he likes a pissin' contest doesn't mean I gotta encourage it."

 

They're all looking in the same direction as they watched Zayn off in the crowd talking to a taller guy with a tan and curly hair. Zayn's arm around Perrie's waist as she talks to them.

 

"So... you guys are friends--" Liam doesn't get a chance to finish the question.

 

 _"Oh my God,"_ Jesy whispers after looking at the taller boy he's with, "Do you know who that is?!?"

 

Liam shakes his head slowly as he watches Zayn laugh with his hot friend.

 

_'No... but I'd sure like too.'_

 

Liam didn't say that nor did he really mean it. He was not the type to walk up to hot and intimidating guys.

 

He told them he was thinking of leaving. Jesy and Leigh tell him not to let those guys ruin his night. They said he went to high school with him one year, Zayn's company. His name was Harry (he was a junior when they were freshmen). As they told Liam about more stories from high school, another girl with tan skin quickly comes over to them, thick ruby red locks and shock on her face.

 

 _"Do you see who Pez is talking too?!?"_   She hisses at them, grabbing their shoulders. She must've been from the same place as Perrie, Geordie accent as well.

 

_"That's Harry Styles!"_

 

 _"I know..."_ Jesy arched her eyebrows, sipping on her drink slowly with a shake of her head as she watched them, eyes trailing down Harry's body.

 

"Still looking like a fully poached snack I see."

 

He was 21, from Midtown in Manhattan and made frequent appearances on this side of town with Zayn. This was the first time they'd seen him in Brooklyn since high school.

 

All of them looked him up and down thoroughly, including Liam.

 

"That should be illegal." Leigh shakes her head.

 

"It  _is_  illegal." Liam agreed cause Harry was fit as fuck too. In a cute, Abercrombie & Fitch model on the weekends kind of way.

 

He doesn't even blush when they look over and exchange knowingly smiles with him. They don't make any comments about Liam checking out boys with them. It felt pretty natural, which was surprising because Liam doesn't think he'd ever had friends he could be this comfortable with.

 

Being closeted while going to an all-boys boarding school will do that to you.

 

Their friend with scarlet hair glances up at Liam with a sweet smile.

 

"Hiya."

 

They introduce Liam to Jade and promptly get back into thirsting over Perrie's new friend. Only Liam is looking at Zayn. He can't take his eyes off him.

 

The girls all seem to be only interested in Harry, not at all mentioning Zayn again. Except once, when Leigh says,

 

"We need to make sure Perrie does  _not_  bring him back to the house."

 

Liam instantly knows which one she's talking about _._  His hand is pretty low on Perrie's backside, both her hands pushed up on Zayn's chest as she laughs at whatever he's saying. He had a smirk on his face as he leaned down to her ear, eyes towards the ceiling a little as Liam watched his mouth move. 

 

He could see his accent from here.

 

"God, he's cute," Liam mumbled.

 

"All boys are cute." Leigh rolled her eyes.

 

She had a strangely concentrated expression now, her wild eyes focused and narrow as teetered back and forth while holding both sides of her arms and gazing at Zayn like she was having flashbacks from war.

 

Jesy nods in agreement that they need to make sure Perrie stays away from him after they leave this party and Liam asks them why. He thought girls were supposed to be in love with the noble bad boys.

 

"Zayn's a black hole," Leigh tells him. "Ruins everything he touches."

 

"Is he your ex?" Liam asked Leigh and she snorted hard along with Jesy, shaking her head and holding her chest like she's on the verge of having a heart attack as she looks at Liam with a closed-mouth grin.

 

"What? I'm curious." Liam laughed.

 

"God, no. That would've been even more  _tragic._ " She pets Liam's arm briefly when she teetered again, sweeping back her curls as he head fell forward to laugh.

 

"They grew up together," Jesy tells him as she snorted through sipping her drink. Zayn lived one fire escape route away from Leigh all their lives before college.

 

"Like siblings. We all went to high school together." She gestures to herself and Leigh.

 

"He's pretty protective of her. She never had a boyfriend in school cause everyone knew he'd bite their head off if they broke her heart."

 

"So you're friends with him then."

 

He tried not to sound entirely interested in Zayn even though this barrage of questioning sounded entirely interested.

 

He seemed pretty sweet with rough edges. But this was Brooklyn. He grew up that way. 

 

He wanted to at least go up and thank him. Even if he was a little scared too.

 

Zayn just had an aura of spiked danger. Even from across the room, Liam felt rage hiding inside him yet, he still had a pull to it. To him. It made him afraid of what that might do to him.

 

Not afraid of what Zayn would do. But what it would make _Liam_ do.

 

He wanted to feel his touch on his body again, that soft thing he also carried inside him that you couldn't see on the outside unless you touched him. Maybe he'd just walk by and bump into him. The entire idea was dismissed when he realised how ridiculous he was being.

 

A thank you was good enough.

 

Leigh got back into her concentrated look as she watched Zayn again. He seemed to pull a profound awakeness out of her.

 

"No. We're not friends. We just know each other. He doesn't have any friends."

 

In the moment, Liam didn't understand what exactly that meant. Maybe he never would. It didn't sound like anything good but, he didn't expect anything less. If the fiasco in the kitchen was a typical night for Zayn, any indication to Liam about him was just a bad-boy fantasy sprung to life.

 

Sure, your parents warn you about it. Tell you you're supposed to stay away from the bad boy. But all the damsels in the movies just had a wild romance with them.

 

Leigh answers a question no one asks.

 

"We used to be friends." She shrugs. "He always protected my little brother from people who made fun of him for being gay. I'll always be thankful for that. Even though his fucking Crypt destroyed my family, we were really good friends and I love him. But, Z destroyed that too. That's all he knows how to do. Just like his shithead pops."

 

Jade and Liam look at each other with agog expressions. Jade tells him she and Perrie have only been here 1 month so, she was just as fresh with the locals as Liam was tonight.

 

"What's his 'Crypt'?" Liam asks now. Leigh-Anne shakes her head with a heated glare.

 

"The  _puto maricón_ that turned my  _Abuelo_  and made our household into a fucking a freak-show!"

 

 _"Leigh."_  Jesy stops her from swearing up a storm, holding her arm when she tilts sideways.

 

She almost looks sober if she wasn't so off balance just standing still. Jesy looks at Liam and Jade then.

 

"Crypt is his grandfather, who was a drunk. And Zayn is pretty much exactly like him. He can drink all night long and never stop. Get up in the morning and do it all over again. So, everyone thinks there's a black hole in the bottom of his stomach he inherited from Crypt." Jesy explains.

 

"And he's not good at stable relationships. It all runs in their messed up family. Zayn's last girlfriend fled cross-country all the way to California just to get  _away_  from him."

 

"Why?" Liam squints. That sounded a bit dramatic.

 

Liam can feel eyes staring their way. He doesn't look at Zayn again. Not until the feeling goes away as he listens to Jesy talk.

 

It doesn't go away.

 

She tells Liam about how he emotionally abused his girlfriend, Jelena in high school. Everyone knew about it. She was someone who Leigh was really close to and part of the reason she and Zayn fell out.

 

Liam can't resist looking up anymore. When he does, Zayn's turned in his direction. But, he's probably looking at Leigh-Anne. Or Jesy. Or a smudge of the wall behind Liam's head. Or anyone else standing near-by that isn't Liam.

 

His eyes are too dark from this far away to tell where he's looking and staring at them for too long gives Liam chills. So he stops watching him now. 

 

"Why California though?" Liam focuses on the girls again, ignoring the heat blooming on his face. 

 

Jesy takes Leigh's hand.

 

"I guess if you manage to escape a black hole, you'd be smart to get as far away from it as you can so you don't get sucked back in." She pulls Leigh with her now. "Come on, let's get Perrie to introduce us to his friend." 

 

The girls walk towards them now, leaving Liam and Jade behind. Jade tells him she's afraid to go over there too.

 

They stay in place as they chat. It's mostly Jade talking as Liam is leaning against the wall and watching Zayn from a distance, pondering this stranger.

 

He seemed not to notice it. Or maybe he does.

 

He looks up from Perrie once and makes eye contact with Liam. Jesy and Leigh are nowhere near-by. He is sure Zayn stares for a beat longer than what can be classed as a glance before he looks back at Perrie again, listening to whatever she's spitting in his ear.

 

Liam caught the look in his eye. It wasn't a glare. He's not sure what it was but, he catches it again... when Zayn's eyes flick back up to Liam's again.

 

He squints a little this time, probably wondering why this weirdo is staring at him. Liam figured he'd be used to it.

 

They watch each other openly now and Liam can't make an excuse that Zayn isn't looking at him as his face straightens again.

 

Zayn takes another drink from his flask, never taking his gaze away as he licks over his front teeth with an attractive smirk that Liam finds slightly patronising. Like he knows something Liam doesn't and he's teasing it. It's alluring, making Liam want to go and ask him what it is he knows.

 

Finally, Zayn turns away, now focusing on Leigh-Anne approaching him with Jesy. He gives them a wide, closed mouth smile and opens his arms for a hug that Leigh rejects as she pushes him off, hitting him in his chest. That only makes Zayn laugh and take another swig, wiping the drip off his chin with the back of his hand as he sucked in his lips. 

 

The way he waves that flask around reminds Liam of a drunk and it makes him frown a little. Maybe everything they said is making him a little biased but... Zayn does look a little off in the face if Liam really pays attention.

 

He thinks about the actual CryptKeeper. That decaying narrator from the horror movie. Such a strange name for someone to give their kind.

 

As he watches Zayn's hollow eyes again, he can't shake the feeling that the decaying old man isn't his grandfather at all. 

 

It's him. 

 

Zayn's mouth falls open again, mute words pouring out that Liam's certain he can hear fragments of. Leigh turns to them, looking towards Jade and Liam as she waves her hand for them to come.

 

 _"Jade, Liam ven aca!"_ She calls out.

 

Jade looks over at Liam with a smile, nudging for him out of his daze.

 

"What are we standin' here for?"

 

"Because we're scared."

 

Jade struck him as a little more shyer than her friends. They were just enabling each other here.

 

Jade laughs, biting her lip for a moment as she stares at the party before she shrugs.

 

"Oh fuck it, let's go!" She says with elated determination.

 

She takes Liam's hand. And Liam becomes something he hasn't been since high school.

 

He becomes shy too.

 

Liam is forced to get his back off the wall then as he joins her through the crowded floor, his legs moving towards Zayn's gravitational pull before he even knows he told them to. 

 

He can feel his pulse thumping in his ears, even over the music as they approach. He keeps his eyes on Zayn's mouth the entire time if only to be focused on something that isn't his nerves. At his lips and how they move and how his tongue licks over his full bottom lip with every other word. Until they actually reach them and his voice becomes clear and the moment finally arrives.

 

The moment Liam, at long last, meets his roommate.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued...
> 
> Part ii. The moment
> 
> Let me know whatever thoughts you had! x


	2. The moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam finds his crowd after a pivotal moment brings them together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's topic was inspired by an episode of Sex and the City, about models. Lot's of quotes from that movie. 
> 
> TW: There is a brief moment of binge drinking close to the end which is a very dangerous thing. This is fiction so although they drink pretty wildly throughout, I'm not romanticising alcoholism. They're gonna talk about it later

 

**_✯✯✯_ **

 

 ** _Modelizer [noun: person, place or thing] -_** **_A person who is obsessed and associates with models only._**

 

**_✯✯✯_ **

 

**ii. The moment**

 

There wasn’t a lot of thought Liam gave to people who dated models. Sure, he knew these people existed but, who actually paid them any attention when they were always standing next to models?

 

Thinking about the guys who dated models was like thinking about your nose.

 

You know it’s there, but it just so happens to always be sitting in your blind spot. How often do you really notice that your nose is there until it points itself out?

 

That’s how Liam felt about modelizers. And also, himself. Liam considered himself to be more of a nose than a face. Not invisible just… in everyone’s blind spot.

 

As he flips through Zayn’s magazines and takes in the onrush of plump butts and racy lingerie, he’s quickly reminded that he lives with a modelizer. A rare kind that actually wasn’t a nose.

 

Zayn was a face. A damn beautiful one.

 

See, models weren’t noses. They were faces. The first thing you notice about anything was it’s face, like the cover of a magazine. The face of a clock. A person. A book. A mountain. It’s just the main event.

 

Supermodels didn’t have to be pointed out. They _were_ the point, these ethereal beings that were rumoured to live on Earth with beauty a subject to make mortals tremble in their presence (according to mass media).

 

The very idea of people that beautiful being human seemed unimaginable at times. The notion that ordinary people dated them was impossible. But if Greek Gods could date humans then Liam supposed that models could too.

 

Actors dated models. Singers and athletes dated models. Leonardo Dicaprio and Hugh Hefner dated models. But models didn’t date other models. It always had to be someone a little less on their level of beauty.

 

There had to be some kind of science behind beautiful people never working out with other beautiful people, unless it was for a photoshoot. Two supremely attractive people cancelling each other out like magnets repelling each other. It was the only logical explanation Liam could find for why Zayn never dated the models he slept with and tossed out the next day.

 

If a supermodel was untouchable to even another supermodel, did that make the people that got to touch them Gods? Liam didn’t think there was a clear answer.

 

He wouldn’t have known unless he actually met these particular breeds of humans.

 

Supermodels and the mortals that dated them.

 

He never thought he would meet any. That was until he moved to New York and unknowingly joined a whole pack of them. Sure, they were still above average on the “exceptionally good-looking human” scale, but that would only make you stand out in a place like, say rural Ohio. In New York, they were a dime a dozen.

 

Another thing about this city the differed from the rest of the world: _supermodels became mortals_.

 

It wasn’t just the glitz, glamour and photoshop that made it seem like they didn’t exist in real life. Any pretty girl could wear a designer skirt and expensive perfume. And any guy could fuck that girl. But there was a difference between fucking the girl in the skirt and fucking the girl in the _ad_ for the skirt.

 

The trick was that one was in print. Always some distant, untouchable place they lived on a better plane of existence than you.

 

New York City was that better plane of existence.

 

In an ordinary city, they were extraordinary beings that only lived on billboards advertising expensive bags. Or posing in magazines for perfume. Or on TV, strutting their stuff across a catwalk in designer clothes.

 

But here, the runway was the streets of Manhattan, alexander Wang and Chanel seen on every street corner. September’s cover of Vogue is having coffee on 205th Houston Street. Half of the perfume ads from Macy’s holiday catalogue are shopping in Soho. Victoria's Secret’s new lingerie angel just got her wings and did her signature walk of shame out of Mac in Brooklyn last weekend.

 

You didn’t have to tune into E! News to catch a runway model here. They ran wild on the streets straight out of the fantasy their magazines confined them in. Chances are, if you’re outside breathing air on the island of Manhattan, a model is doing the same thing 10 feet away from you.

 

Sending a supermodel to a place like Ohio would be like throwing food out to the starving. But a model in New York City was the very nose on your face.

 

So if Liam couldn’t even point one out of the sea of flesh surrounding him here, there was no way he would’ve seen the moment coming when he met a couple of modelizers as he was drooling over Zayn for a half hour at a crowded frat party in Brooklyn last year.

 

How do you know when you’re in the presence of one? One obvious clue: they were usually surrounded by models.

 

If you didn’t pick up the first clue, you’d surely pick up the second one even faster: unless you are stunningly gorgeous, you suddenly become the most invisible person on the face of Earth.

 

Liam picked up both a little too late.

 

He already had a thing against walking up to attractive boys and shoving his presence in their face. But when Jade dragged him up to Zayn and Harry, who were already surrounded by 3 beautiful girls, Liam was forced to break his own rules.

 

They were all talking about leaving this party and going to the one around the block together, Zayn arguing with Jesy about not being the one that’s gonna be babysitting Leigh-Anne this time when she gets shit-faced, because he wanted to get shit-faced too.

 

Their discussion was put on hold when two wallflowers plucked themselves from the corner of their grove and arrived at their small party in the middle of the room.

 

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Harry has sarcastic douchebag stitched in his voice.

 

It instantly turned off whatever charm Liam found with his curls peeking out from underneath his snapback and misty green eyes that gave off the impression that he didn’t care about anything. Along with the two piercings on his left brow. They were kind of a turn off too.

 

His arm was slung over Perrie’s shoulders now after she’d just re-introduced him to his old classmates. He was telling them about how he’d just closed escrow in Crown Heights and was making rounds in this house now so, they’d have to wait if they wanted to get out of here with him.

 

Not escrow on a house. A drug deal.

 

This was Zayn’s weed man. A rich white dude from fucking Manhattan. Go figure.

 

Zayn looked up from the girls he was already losing to Harry. At the same time, Liam looked away, to the side at Jade to avoid Zayn’s gaze that’s pointing in his direction again.

 

“Another IMG girl?” Zayn asked as his eyes locked on Jade’s bright red hair.

 

“Colourful, huh?”

 

“ _Two,_ actually.” Perrie laughed, gesturing to Liam as well as she prodded his arm.

 

“Jade and Liam Payne.”

 

Liam coughed softly into his fist without comment when his mind scattered into confusion. As he looked at Perrie with dismay, she added,

 

“You could _so_ sign with IMG!”

 

Leigh nodded in agreement before her eyes went wild like she had just been struck with an ingenious idea.

 

“You should talk to my agent, you totally look like Alban Lenoir! Don’t he look just like Alby?”

 

“He looks better than Alby.”

 

 _“Obviously._ Dude’s like 40 years old. Liam is way better looking. _”_

 

Liam laughed lightly at the ground, unsure of how to take being compared to a male supermodel that was best known for having a gigantic forehead.

 

Was that a compliment or a coded crack on his dome?

 

Zayn grabbed Leigh’s wrist with a grimace when she hooked an arm around his neck to keep herself from falling when someone walking by bumps her too hard.

 

He pushed her waist back with his other hand so she wouldn’t make them both trip. It seemed like he didn’t have a choice in taking on the role of being the babysitter as Jesy quickly left her side to be more engrossed with Harry, sattling all of her weight on Zayn.

 

“You really signed with IMG?” Zayn asked Jade over Leigh’s head now as his chin hooked over her hair after she’d laid on his chest to laugh at something Harry said.

 

He seemed determined to talk to Jade through Leigh’s curls, patting her hair out of his face each time her laughter slapped him in the cheek.

 

Liam found it kind of odd how undistracted he was with letting a drunk Leigh-Anne spill her body all over him like dead weight as she and Perrie carried on a separate conversation comparing Liam to a French model from Paris they were friends with.

 

“You have to come to our place, he lives right next door. You’d _love_ him.”

 

He bet he would love to meet a famously handsome male model. Liam would’ve loved if they had just offered to let him ride his bike around the corner.

 

You know who has a loft in Tribeca? Fucking Beyonce. Adriana Lima. Christy Turlington. _Taylor Swift._

 

Any notable anybody who was anybody had a place tucked away in that neighbourhood and it was Liam’s dream spot he’d kill to have someone close escrow for him in. He almost went to ask Harry if his entrepreneurship included real estate. He didn’t think he’d find that joke very funny.

 

As Liam listened to them talk, it was then he realised a pattern.

 

How could these girls afford to live in an apartment on the handsome cobblestoned streets of the most desirable neighbourhood next to Soho? He looked at the four of them again and reevaluated a detail he missed at first glance.

 

They were _models._

 

Perrie had just walked her first runway with Jade here during NYFW while this was Jesy and Leigh-Anne’s 3rd year with IMG.

 

His pulse pounded harder as more intimidation struck.

 

He found his eyes following the movement of Zayn’s hands, strangely calming to his racing heart. One was moving up and down Leigh’s arm comfortingly at his shoulder while the other holding her back as they swayed back and forth.

 

He was so gentle. It was like they were dancing to the song together even though they were both in the middle of two totally separate conversations and Leigh-Anne was still mad at him for something he did two years ago.

 

Liam looked down at Jade’s hand interlocked with his own still. They were sort of doing the same thing, only they were strangers. As he took in the moment, it all became kind of beautiful in his head. How simple human interaction could be, even without words.

 

He felt a gap in the conversation coming so, he prepared himself to finally have a chance to say thank you to Zayn as soon as they made eye contact again.

 

The moment never seemed to arrive.

 

Did he see Liam standing there at all? Liam sure couldn’t tell.

 

He couldn’t tell if Zayn saw him next to Jade or not. It was strange to stand right in someone’s face and still not be able to distinguish who they were looking at.

 

Right then as Liam thought that, Zayn was about to open his mouth again as if they’d both been struck with the same idea. To either address Jade or Liam, who knows. But before he can get a word out, Jade says,

 

“Thought you didn’t want to babysit.”

 

She nods towards Leigh-Anne practically asleep on Zayn now. He looks down like he forgot she was there.

 

“Oh,” He frowned a little as he lost his train of whatever thought he’d been on, then looked back up at Jade again.

 

“Well, she’s pretty when she’s pissed. I don’t mind havin’ pretty around.” His brows quirked with a charming wink.

 

It made Jade laugh as she let go of Liam’s hand to cover a shy smile skirting across her peachy cheeks. The loss of her hand seemed to give way to Liam losing the illusion of have a real place in being with this group anymore.

 

He couldn’t tell that he was being ignored before but now, it became obvious. It was like someone had turned up the volume of his silence and the fact that he hadn’t been able to break it yet.

 

He hadn’t said a word since leaving the wall.

 

"You look Egyptian. Weren’t you at the Versace show?" Zayn smirked at Jade as his lip curled halfway up when he thumbed at his buzzed mustache, like he was too cool to smile.

 

Jade nodded yes again.

 

Liam observed that Zayn definitely had a thing for models. He didn’t look like the type of person that attended fashions shows for the fashion. It didn’t usually take Liam this long to figure people out and it was becoming like a game each time something Zayn said revealed a new trait about him.  
  
  
" _And_ Yemeni," Jade told him.  
  
  
"Oh.” Zayn frowned again as his brows came together, letting go of Leigh-Anne now as she comes to Harry’s side to see his tongue piercing he was showing Jesy and Perrie.

 

“How do you kiss with that thing?” Perrie asked with his tongue between her fingers so he’d stick it out. Harry smiled, leaned down and made out with her.

 

Liam zeroed back into Zayn and Jade’s conversation after shuddering.

 

_“Shalom aleichem?”_

 

Zayn completely butchers the phrase and Liam almost laughed.

 

“No it’s _Assalamu Alaikum_ ." Jade giggled. "But I'm actually a Coptic."  
  
  
"What's that?"  
  
  
"An Egyptian Christian."

 

Have you ever been stuck in the middle of a discussion you were not even remotely engaged in with people you didn’t even know?

 

Try 2.

Liam was stuck in limbo. Being this close to Zayn made him realise that it didn’t matter if he was across the room or standing right under his nose. Liam had been standing next to an Egyptian model from Newcastle.

 

He’d notice his nose before he noticed Liam.

 

A punch in the gut knocks another winded thought into him as he looked around. He was the furthest thing from anyone here’s mind and in no position to change it. Because he was not a model. He was standing in a blind spot, unable to move

 

Zayn and Jade were hitting it off with Liam frozen next to her like a fly on the wall. Jesy, Perrie and Leigh were all swarmed around Harry and had since moved on from booking Liam’s go-see to taking turns with Harry’s tongue.

 

Models and the boys who dated them. Where did Liam fit into a cesspool like this? As the invisible man.

 

It was the worst moment he’d had since he got here, feeling like a charity shop in a room full of Victoria's Secret.

 

Inadequate. Boring. Not worth anyone here's time. He'd never felt more out of place. Not even in high school. At least then, he managed to get _some_ kind of attention.

  
  
Not coming as a shock, he already knew this wasn’t his kind of crowd upon entry. He didn’t know where his crowd was, probably hidden away in some secluded cave off in some mountain no one had discovered yet. It made him think about Plato's Cave.

 

While he had his reality check, he concluded that he’d missed several cues that it was time to call it a day about an hour ago.

 

After a few minutes of awkwardly glancing at shoes shuffling below him and scrolling up and down old text messages, he had slowly began to phase out of this group after finally thawing out, looking for the door.

 

It was still daylight out. He was thinking he could maybe still catch that opera he’d bought tickets for after reading about it in The Observer that morning.

 

Before he plucks himself out, a question he overhears stills him again.  
  
  
"Zayn Malik?" Jade squinted a bit. "Are you Muslim?"

 

It hit Liam again that he’d heard that name somewhere before. Not on TV or anything like that but, someone he actually knew.

 

He dared to finally look Zayn directly in the face for the first time since getting this close, to search for something familiar. Zayn’s eyes darted down as his jaw tensed in response to her question.

 

It was like he moved with his own personal lighting director from the way every part of his face seemed glorified. Liam wasn’t sure what was familiar about him. Maybe it was his hair. Or the way his cigarette dangled from his ear. Or the way looking at him reminded Liam of having asthma, being hopelessly breathless and unable to get out words.

 

Whatever it was, Liam felt that he’d definitely seen him somewhere before tonight.

 

“M-A-L-I-K, Malik?” Jade repeated, like Zayn didn’t know his own religion.

 

Zayn only shook his head no again as he took a swig from his flask.

 

  
"It's just a name." He nodded firmly, looking back up at Jade then.

 

“Didn’t really choose it.”

 

For the first time, there’s an awkward pause between them as Jade was doing most of the talking about herself. The second it shifted to talking about Zayn, everything stopped. Even Jesy and Leigh-Anne stopped talking and looked over at them with the same expressions they had when Zayn walked into the kitchen.

 

Like they were waiting for him to combust.  
  
  
With a growing tension building on the subject now, Zayn moves on.  
  
  
"So you really study biology?" He changes the topic back to her again, Liam again observing all the silent rage subtly evoked in his own ego.

 

Jade put her hands on her hips.

 

“And this is the part where you wipe that shocked look off your face.”

 

“I’m not shocked, sweetheart.” Zayn backtracked with an easy half-smile.

 

“I mean, not for the reason you’re implyin’ anyway. I just think it’s always such a turn on when a girl like you doesn’t narrow herself to modelin just because you’re beautiful.”

 

It was a pretty nice save. _Really_ nice.

 

They got back into flirting, everyone around falling into conversation or swaying to dance again as the models beamed under the attention they made their living off of and Liam was halfway to making it out of it all.

 

He got to the other side of their circle, still thinking he was cloaked in invisibility, when he caught wind of the perfect ticket out.

 

Harry had ducked out to make his last transaction of the day and Jesy was telling Leigh-Anne they needed to leave before it got dark enough for the freaks to board the transit. So Liam, being the well-meaning but unrealistic philanthropist he is, made them a generous offer.

 

An offer that somehow managed to grab _every single person’s_ attention that was standing in his vicinity. Including  Zayn. Not that Liam didn’t already have Zayn's full attention anyway.

 

 _“Do you need a ride?”_ Liam asked them, jiggling his car keys as he didn’t think his voice was loud enough to be heard over the music.

 

_“I’m turning in too.”_

 

He wasn’t doing anything special tonight. He really just wanted to take them up on seeing their place.

 

“You have a car?”

 

He nodded.

 

“What?” Harry appeared again and looked at Liam like he’d just heard him say he had an uzi strapped on him.

 

“You have a _car_?”

 

 _“Yes.”_ Liam laughed at their disbelief.

 

Apparently, no one here even knew how to drive. Liam went from invisible to the main event.

 

_“What kind is it?”_

 

_“Did you get it here or have it imported?”_

 

_“Can you take me too?”_

 

_“Can I see your license?”_

 

It seemed like the best way to get attention in New York was to be a cab driver. Freeride? Now  _that_ was throwing food to the starving.

 

While Liam answered every question he heard over the music, _Audi, imported. Sure? And no,_ one question pushed everyone else’s behind him in line.

 

“Who the hell imports a car t’ New York?” Zayn asked this. His voice seemed louder than it had a mere 5 minutes ago.

 

Liam looked up and noticed he was already turned towards him.

 

It wasn’t really the question that made him sound like a douche. It was the way he said it.

 

Liam’s brows came together as he looked at him.

 

_“Um… the millions of people currently stuck in a traffic jam outside?”_

 

Leigh and Jesy both started laughing at the stunned look on Zayn’s face when Liam got smart with him, like he didn’t expect that. Liam didn’t know where it came from either but, he really liked the look on Zayn’s face.

 

Liam shook his head at them, smiling

 

_“What?”_

 

“We’re not going home.” Leigh told him without answering.

 

“We’re just going around the corner.”

 

“You should come!”

 

“So he can start another fight with a frat boy?” Zayn rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he denied their request as if he was the boss here.

 

“Yeah, no.”

 

“Pretty sure _you_ started a fight with a frat boy.” A girl behind them chimes.

 

Instead of agreeing with her and telling Zayn that he in no way started a confrontation that _he_ took it upon himself to finish, he takes the opportunity to say what he wanted to say the first time now that he has his attention.

  
_  
_ _“I wanted to thank you for that. Earlier.”_

 

_“What?”_

 

The glare in Zayn’s eye seemed to be a trick of the light as he leaned forward and they melted into a warm brown under the shadow of his hair. He looked like he wasn’t expecting Liam to say that either.

 

Since he’d leaned a little closer, Liam figured he couldn’t hear him.

 

 _“I said--”_  
  
  
“No, I heard you. Your voice is just really soft.”

 

It’s not like it was a compliment. It was all about tone and his tone was somehow unexpected.

 

They were both just throwing each other off with their unexpectedness, like they kept colliding at the wrong places instead of meeting in the middle.

 

Liam’s mouth closed, unsure of how to respond for a moment.  
  
  
_“Sorry. I mumble a lot.”_  
  
  
“You're not mumbling.” Zayn laughed a little. _“I_ mumble.”

 

“When he's drunk.” Jesy added. “He mumbles when he’s drunk,”

 

“’m never drunk.”

 

“Pretty sure you’re _always_ drunk.” Perrie laughed.

 

“You hear me mum-bling?” He enunciated, mocking her voice.

 

He was pretty good at faking accents. He almost sounded British in that moment.

 

That seemed to end the debate as he smiled at them after winning the brief argument. He and these girls just lived to argue with each other. Liam was sure they could walk outside and argue about the sky being blue or black.

 

He looks at Liam again.

 

“Your voice is _humbling_.”

 

Now there was a genuine compliment Liam didn’t know how to take.

 

“... _thanks.”_  
  
  
“Where're you from?” Harry asked, taking his arm off Perrie to sip his drink _._ _  
__  
__  
__“London.”_  
  
  
“Boring.” Zayn smiled and Liam laughed.  
  
  
“Listen London,” His hand went back to Jade again so she wasn’t lost with being ignored.

 

“This is a party. Not a support group.”

 

 _“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”_  
  
  
“It means Zayn doesn't like thank you's.” Jesy told him.  
  
  
“No, I don't.” Zayn agreed.  
  
  
_“Why don’t you like thank you’s?”_ Liam smiled at the way he scowled at her with his eyes.

 

Jesy was in black lace so he was convinced that Zayn didn’t like anything that wasn’t wearing a mini skirt, which included Liam. Only he couldn’t quite seem to piss him off the way he suddenly wanted to. They’d both just ended up smiling at some non-existent joke they shared.    
  
  
“What the fuck is a thank you?” Zayn asked rhetorically as he continues the discussion, looking towards the others.

 

They only shrugged, all of everyone around equally intrigued with this conversation about nothing. Liam wasn’t used to being the main event but he hardly noticed all of them outside of Zayn and his friends.

 

 _“An expression of gratitude and appreciation?”_ Liam admonished, crossing his arms with a curious amusement.

 

“But what's that kind of expression of gratitude do for me and you? Does a thank you buy you dinner and a drink? Does it give you a blowjob? No. Those are the only “thank you's” worth receiving.” He toasts with Harry and they both take a drink.  
  
  
_Noted_ . Liam thought, now that he knows a better way to say ‘thanks’ that he’s really good at.

 

 

_**Thank You [noun: person, place or thing] - a thing that's expressed through a blowjob and dinner. Maybe a drink too** _

 

  
  
“You want a real drink, don't go to the frat boys.” Zayn addressed Liam again, giving him advice in lieu of a ‘you’re welcome’ in the same vein that only Zayn could.

 

“They only serve chicks cause they want to roofie them. Someone like me shows up here, and they don’t.”

 

Leigh rolled her eyes and told him to shut up with his fake nobility.

 

“You only come here so you can show your ass.”

  
  
_“Where do you suggest I go for real booze then?”_ Liam got back into the topic at hand as he brings Zayn’s attention back to himself before the others take off with it.

 

He was only just noticing his proximity to Zayn then. They were very close and had been so this entire time.

 

It wasn’t a very big house so the intimacy was unavoidable. One more step and they’d be on each other’s toes. But the way Zayn leaned in to hear his voice better suddenly made him realise how close he was to kissing him.

 

He wondered if that was a worthy thank you to Zayn. This boy was impossible to read between the lines of. Liam wasn’t sure if he was imagining cues or imagining this moment altogether.  
  
  
“Me.” Zayn cheesed with raised brows like he did with Randy. “That’s where sweetheart. I'll be your new best friend tonight.”

 

He was waving his flask by his stretched cheek and Liam laughed.

 

Then Zayn took a step back and put his hand behind Jade’s back so she’d move up, closer to them. A high hand, not a low one this time.  
  
  
“Open up, Newcastle.”

 

There was a moment when Liam noticed a switch. He was now "sweetheart" and Jade was a place this time. Stupid as it is, he starts blushing.

 

Jade lifted her chin to receive the shot and Liam got on the tip his toes when he was pushed from behind as a guy walked by wanting a shot as well. Zayn glared at him, telling him to back the hell up, back behind Liam after he watched him get pushed back.

 

"You want a drink, get _behind_ him."

 

It was like he’d opened a can of worms now as a swarm of people lined behind Liam and started asking for shots.

 

It broke his concentration of Zayn as he was brought back to reality. There was still a frat party around him and the models were still here. Only now, the spotlight was on Zayn and Liam as everyone in the circle, which had tripled since the car debacle, are taking shots of Vodka admonished by Zayn via his bottomless silver flask.

 

Maybe that really was his black hole.

 

Zayn went clockwise - models first and laughing with Liam each time someone made a sour face as the crowd began chanting, _shots, shots, shots, shots, shots, shots_.

 

Maybe he was mental but, Liam was actually starting to have a good time. It was a party, that’s what you’re supposed to do. But that was wrong.

 

It wasn’t really a party without Zayn’s engagement.

 

When Zayn got to Leigh-Anne, she lifted her chin accordingly. He pulled it back at the last second with a laugh to skip over her, throwing it to Liam behind her so she couldn’t catch it as they briefly played Keep Away.

 

Eventually, by the third time Zayn caught it over her head, she hit him in his chest and rolled her eyes with a pout when he wouldn’t let her take another shot.

 

Then he got to Liam. Liam who hadn’t had a single drink tonight yet, he felt intoxicated as shit.

 

For this, he shook his head no to decline. He felt drunk already. Plus, he hadn’t had vodka since he lost his virginity. The sentiment felt a bit too raw still.

 

“Why not?” Leigh pouted. “You have to take one for me.”  
  
  
_“Maybe next time.”_ Liam laughed, until he looked at Zayn’s face.

 

He wasn’t frowning or smiling like he’d been all night. He couldn’t explain the look on his face but, it made him regret rejecting him.  
  
  
“But there may not be a next time.” He said finally _._ _  
_ _  
_ _  
_ _“Sorry?”_ Liam cleared his throat.

 

He wasn’t an alarmist but, Zayn’s tone erupted chills all over him. Like he was talking about this as a significant phenomenon and not just a drink. Maybe it was.  
  
  
“We may never get this chance again.” Zayn elaborated.

 

Liam would’ve laughed if he didn’t look so, completely serious.

 

Zayn and his sexy intensity - a seemingly inseparable duo. It was either all there and all gone. In this moment every drop of it was out of him, soaking into Liam like liquor and intoxicating him even more.

 

His hands had begun to fidget, lost on what to do with themselves but squirm nervously beneath the heat between them.

 

_“What chance?”_

 

“This moment.” Zayn gestured to himself.

 

The girls.

 

Harry.

 

And Liam.

 

New York chanting around them had disappeared. He was right. This moment was beautiful. He’d just left Liam a little speechless that he felt it too.

 

“We may never get the chance to return to this moment again.”

 

Liam smiled really wide when he finally recognised it.

 

He had just quoted a monologue from an Anthology series they were studying in his 8 a.m. English class that Liam _adored._

 

_New York, I Love You._

 

It was like he’d just professed something to Liam that he’d be cruel to reject.

 

“You don't wanna have a drink with me, don't have a drink with me.” Zayn shrugged “The Crypt keeper always told me, ' _don't put off som'in to later that's happenin' right now.'"_

 

He was  _really_ good at accents. His grandad must've been from Queens. Liam suspected that was an impression of him.

 

"This moment is _now_.”

 

They stood there in the moment passing each other this look now. Not for very long. Zayn broke out this winning smile that knew he’d already convinced Liam as he was now stepping closer and opening his mouth with his head tilted back.

 

It was an obscene pose but, maybe that was sorta the point.

 

  
The crowd had suddenly returned. And they were _deafeningly_ loud as Zayn poured his shot down Liam’s throat.

  
_  
_ _“Thataboy.”_ He cheesed so wide, Liam felt blinded. More than blinded.

 

His joyous excitement and happiness now felt erotic and adrenalised. Letting someone spill alcohol down into his body, he’d never felt anything more intimate than this. Vodka takes him to sex. Or it did once upon a time. He wondered if each time he drank the clear pool now, would it always lead back to him and this moment.

 

Anytime anyone asks him how old he was when he had his first drink, Liam Payne would say he was 18. And he’d say he had his first drink with Zayn Malik.

 

The burn in his throat was hot and raw just as he imagined Zayn would give it to him as.

 

He couldn’t be satisfied enough from those hot pumps shooting down his throat like an express train with zero stops and it seemed that Zayn couldn’t get enough of giving it to him either as he held the back of Liam’s head so he wouldn’t fall out.

 

It was way more than a single shot but, it never stopped coming. And coming. A _coming_ . And Zayn’s face as he watched Liam take it was _terribly_ hot _,_ his mouth in a gaping smile with his bottom lip curled over his teeth _._

 

Zayn was on the tip of his toes the more Liam pulled back. They were enjoying this way too much but the crowd gassed them up each time they thought it would stop.

 

When his stomach became syrup, Liam’s hand grabbed the neck of it over Zayn’s hand and pulled off, spilling a bit on his lips and dripping down his neck as he choked, coughing while Zayn rubbed his neck to soothe the burn but, that only made it intensify.

 

Zayn told the rest of the people waiting that it was the last of it - which was a lie - as Liam wiped his mouth, laughing the entire time, which made Zayn laugh almost uncontrollably too.

 

5 minutes later, they were sitting on a bench against a wall after Zayn had got Liam a coke to chase it with so he wouldn’t pass out.  
  
  
“Maybe you'll like Tammy's better.” Zayn’s leg bumped Liam’s as he drank and let out a cool breath.

 

He looked at Zayn and they both burst into tears laughing again.

 

He couldn’t believe he’d just done that.  
  
  
_“Who's Tammy?”_ Liam asked.  
  
  
“Cafe around the block.”

 

Now he was offended.  
  
  
_“You think I'm a light-weight?”_

 

“No. _Maybe_. I dunno.” Zayn started laughing again when Liam did before he shrugs.

 

“That was just my mea culpa for enjoying nearly killin you so I won’t burn in hell. I’ll accept my fate if you don’t want to.”

 

Had he just… offered to take Liam for coffee?

 

“I think she’s closed anyways.” He laughed a little nervously.

 

His leg wouldn’t stop bouncing and it would’ve made Liam nervous if his head wasn’t dissolving into swirling liquid. He was too bellied up to notice much of any of the details he usually did sober.

 

 _Mea culpa._ The phrase left Zayn’s lips like sweet honey, the same colour of his eyes as he smiled at Liam in this lower lighting.

 

It was Latin for admitting you've done something wrong, usually said as a disclaimer before confessing your sins to a priest.

 

What Liam gathers from Zayn saying that so casually is that he might’ve been Catholic, Liam's 3rd queue of the night to run for the door - the response all religious people trigger in him.

 

He stays.  

 

_“So you don't like apologies either then.”_

 

Zayn laughed with his head back, then he looked at Liam again, shaking his head.

 

“As much as I like 8 a.m. class.”

 

Liam only shook his head, snickering as he sipped his coke.  
  
  
_“I think I'll take the vodka.”_ He decided. _“The way you people drink tea around here disgusts me.”_

 

“Seriously?”

 

_“Absolutely! Makes the goat's piss in the kitchen look pretty.”_

 

It was looking to be a night of pure laughter.

 

Just after, Leigh and Jesy rolled up to them, along with Perrie and Jade who were both on either side of Harry.

 

“Are you ready to go?”

 

“Sold all your weed?” He asked Harry, who gave him the finger in response.

 

“Not really.” Zayn said to the girls, honestly.

 

“Because you like it here so much.” Jesy crossed her arms.  
  
  
“No. But, I think I like Liam Payne.”  
  
  
There was that moment again. It wasn’t what he said that made Liam felt warm again. It was always _how_ Zayn said things.

 

How he’d said his name did things to him that made him feel more drunk than he really was,

 

He couldn’t tell what exactly this moment was called but, he knew they’d only said his name once and somehow, Zayn knowing it already felt profoundly significant.

 

_“So does that mean I can come with you?”_

 

“You could always come with us Liam.”

 

He wasn't gonna get over how much he loved how his name looked in Zayn's mouth.

 

He thought he liked Zayn too but, that was never a question.

  
  
Others.... not so much.

 

Just as they were fixing to leave this place in their small party of now 7, something catches Liam's attention behind them. Something dangerous.  
  
  
He didn't know what it was that alerted him of danger this time. Call it what you want, a premonition or a gut feeling. He just felt it all over him.  
  
  
Maybe it was a change in the air or the shift in the crowd. Or maybe a butterfly was flapping it's wings in India, who the hell knows. But he knew that whatever was approaching wasn't coming for him.  
  
  
It was coming for Zayn.  
  
  
In front of him, he felt Zayn go stiff right after. And he really means he felt it, like they were connected in some freaky way. If only to confirm this, Zayn happened to look back at Liam at the exact same time with unease, like he's about to ask Liam if everything's okay.  
  
  
It's not.  
  
  
See not everyone liked Zayn, and he knew that. Not to say they wanted to see him dead but, let's just say if 99% of everyone Zayn knew saw him getting jumped in a dark alley or drowning in the Hudson river, the only thing they'd save is their energy.  
  
  
So there they were, Liam and his new drinking buddies moving towards the front door to hop across the street to another party. Liam had been holding his gaseous stomach with a disturbed expression while everyone else was chatting and still having a reasonably good time... when out of nowhere, a pack of 16 linebacker-looking keg heads appeared in the doorway they're headed for. All wearing the same letterman jackets.  
  
  
Alpha beta phi, looking around with their equally beastly eyes. A lone wolf might be scary but, he's usually more bark than bite. But this lone wolf went and got his entire fleet, Randy at the front of the line as he looks through the crowd with his brothers.

 

Liam instantly knows who they're looking for and his stomach drops like a slope on a rollercoaster. Liam reacts before he even knows what he's doing.

 

He thinks he’s reaching forward to snatch Zayn back with him, but the movement is too much for his stomach as everything moves by in a blur of motion.

 

2 things Liam realised that he had absolutely no control of.

 

1, he was way drunker than he originally thought and his coordination had disintegrated.

 

2... he was gonna vomit. All over the floor and everyone's shoes on the floor. As if there weren’t already 16 horrid adverts for steroids ready to kill Zayn, now a few dozen other were about to be ready kill Liam too.

 

The solution to this problem? Well, it wasn’t run. That for sure wasn't happening with the state he was in. But that was kind of what they ended up doing anyways.

 

Two drunk idiots, an entire frat house and a closet door. What could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part iii. the closet


	3. The closet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two drunks defy physics by stumbling across party to a rooftop, into a closet, then onto each other.

 

 **_  
_ ** **_✯✯✯_ ** **_  
  
_**

 

****

 

 

**_The City [noun: person, place or thing] - A living, breathing, bottomless pit full of excitement and known centre of the universe (also known as Manhattan to the average New Yorker)._ **

 

  ** _✯✯✯_  **

 

 

**iii. The closet**

 

 

If you asked Liam where The City was, he wouldn’t point to a place on the map. He’d tell you to look into his room. You’d find a living, breathing person with a body he loved to explore. And he’d tell you his name was Zayn Malik.

 

Can’t point to Wyoming on a map but can navigate through the subway, has only ever seen stars on TV and didn’t know what an apology was? Definitely Zayn.

 

Just like Zayn, Liam enjoyed exploring every part of New York. The City always has this part of him he's never explored before. Always some new restaurant popping up or street he never thought to go down. The most maddening thing about him was that for anyone who didn’t already know the self-proclaimed centre of the universe, The City was easy to get lost in like the bottomless pit he was once you reached a certain point.

 

Liam has only explored the bottom half of him so, everything due north was still mostly a mystery. The thrill in that was always wondering what he would find next. But, that game was getting harder to play.

 

It was something they called “seeing the whole board” in chess. If you don’t see the whole board, you can’t win the game.

 

If Liam only explored one organ of The City, he’d never learn about the rest of him.

 

So now, Liam was expanding his horizons and giving himself a cheat code to the game: entering Zayn’s side of the room. A.K.A. East New York - the parts of The City you are supposed to stay away from (unless you want your body stuffed into a dumpster).

 

That’s what Zayn told Liam.

 

_“Mess with my shit and your bits are gonna be scattered all over Brooklyn. Vy ponimayete?”_

 

He said the last part in Russian so Liam would know just who was scattering his bits.

 

_You understand?_

 

Liam promised him he understood. He never said he wasn’t going to.

 

So now, here he is. Breaking all of Zayn’s rules at once. Touching almost everything in his drawer, testing his threat and blasting his “Avante Garde” music (which was just smooth jazz today).

 

He’d be safer playing with fire.

 

If Zayn walks in right now, there will be no hope for Liam’s survival from Zayn boot going so far East up his ass he’ll be speaking Russian too.

 

The Zayn’s side of the room was just as effortlessly well kept as Zayn himself. He absolutely _hated_ anything dirty, even if it was a girl talking it.

 

Naturally, Liam was extremely neat as well. Both sides of the room were totally clean 100% of the time. If a single bed sheet is out of place, even a stranger would notice because it’s so clean in here that messy things stood out like a sore thumb. But no one paid greater attention to detail than Liam did. He was diligent with everything he came across, keeping track of every crack he put in each wall and memorising where to put everything he took out back in place exactly as he found it.

 

He flips Zayn’s silver lighter open and lights the cigarette dangling his mouth as he smokes leisurely even though smoking is banned in this building, propping his knee up nonchalantly as he's tossing magazines around and ignoring the models that witness his trespassing as he blows smoke in their faces. For someone who liked things clean, he sure did have a lot of dirty magazines. 

 

School, money and his love life definitely weren’t a part of Zayn that needed investigating so that’s not what Liam is looking for in here.

 

As far as money went, unlike most 20-year-olds Zayn has had a pretty decent part-time job for 6 years. At 15 bucks an hour to tutor dumb trust-fund babies, he had a very fat savings that he mostly blew through on tuition. He also was the kind of person that sleeps through class and still somehow aces every exam. Liam doesn’t know how he did it. He told Zayn he was half convinced he either cheated or gave his professors that extra _charm_  dangling in his jeans (Men were not immune to it either).

 

That only made Zayn laugh, never revealing his secret.

 

It was only playful teasing. Everyone that knew Zayn knows he’d been coming to NYU since he was a kid and was an academic prodigy. He really didn't need to go to higher education. He said he was just humouring his mother because she had to drop out of college when she got pregnant with him. She went to _Le Cordon Bleu_ , which is a pretty big deal so he said his existence was kind of a devastation on her life since she turned out to be a horrifying cook.

 

As for the last one, it didn’t take more than a sideways glance for him to get laid easily.

 

Liam was more interested in his history. Family. Friends. Life events. That kind of thing.

 

He figured, if he couldn’t get a clear and sober reading of Zayn in person, maybe he could in print. Like finding a bio stapled over his belongings.

 

Turns out, Zayn’s stuff was just as unclear as him. If anything, going through the forbidden side of The City has only got Liam more lost than before. 

 

This place was just like any other of Zayn’s black holes.

 

Liam finally finds something as clear and straightforward as possible: A half-empty bottle of something called “Everclear” deeper in the drawer next to a half-empty of Valium. He freezes for a few seconds like he’s staring at a nuclear weapon before he puts out his cigarette in the ashtray on the end table next to Zayn’s bed.

 

Carefully, he turns the bottle of Vodka over to read the label.

 

“190 proof! Holy _Christ_...”

 

_96% alcohol_

 

He swallows air like he’s dehydrated, feeling his mouth drying up just reading the label. He makes a mental note to add sage into his bowls of potpourri to burn in here later and maybe every day for the rest of the year because this bottle of poison was surely retrieved from the depths of hell. Even though it was against their dorms policy to have flammable stuff in their rooms. This seemed like it should've been on that list of things too.

 

He’s never seen either of these before and it's turned his curiosity into concern. This could knock someone out permanently if they weren’t careful.

 

On top of it, using alcohol to wash down anxiety medication made an even worse potion of death that would kill you faster than the two could individually. No wonder Zayn is always wired like electric in fucking copper when he’s sober. He’s assuming Zayn has this for anxiety but, he didn’t even know he _had_ anxiety.

 

Until now, Liam didn’t think anything could possibly make Zayn nervous, let alone anxious _._

 

This is just what Liam means when he tells people how confusing Zayn is.

 

Everything he is seems to be polar opposites of each other. Either he’s a raging alcoholic or Judy Garland. Some might argue that this is redundant but, Liam really begs to differ if you really take into account that 10 milligrams of fucking Valium is added in here. This shit could knock a horse out into a coma.

 

He knew Zayn might’ve had a problem but, he didn’t know it was bad enough to go through this kind of medication. He seems to be trying to put out a fire with lighter fluid.

 

Everyone told Liam to get out of this room. That he’d live to regret being around Zayn this much. That he’d get sucked into the mess of him. But if anything, Zayn has gone out of his way to make Liam comfortable here by hiding stuff like this.

 

Everyone thinks there are empty bottles lying around in his room all the time but, Zayn’s not a messy person in general (they _could not_ have lived together if one of them were messy). At the very worst, it smells bad in here because there’s loads of ashtrays and cigarette smoke in their room a lot of the time. But, Liam drowns out the smell with copious amounts of fall scented potpourri in bowls he sits on every surface this time of the year, burning safely like incense of the autumn spirit.

 

All that being said, Zayn most definitely isn’t the kind of person that would broadcast how much he drinks very loudly. All the dark and light alcohol stay in their shared mini cabinet, reason number 100 Liam has to make sure he doesn’t get caught looking in here.

 

He carefully moves the bottle to the side, holding the neck like it contains hazardous waste that’ll make him grow a second head if he let it touch his skin. He doesn’t know how he feels about such a large dosage of valium being half empty. He hopes Zayn doesn’t take this with vodka. And he’s _praying_ it’s not an addiction.

 

It’s like he’s finding Zayn’s skeletons he’s stowed away under his bed. This is basically Zayn’s closet just without the clothes. Liam forgot why he even went in here in the first place. He’s just being plain nosy now after falling down the rabbit hole, wondering what else he’ll find just for the sake of finding it.

 

Zayn’s even got Liam in here.

 

One of his older Taylor Swift albums is jammed into the pages of an issue one of Tommy Hilfiger's weekly magazines that he pulls her out of, holding his lip in with a grumpy frown as he tosses it back over to his side.

 

Liam hasn’t seen this since the first month he moved here. Unless Zayn was a closeted Swiftie himself, he without a doubt hid it so Liam wouldn’t ever find it again. Most likely the second one.

 

The only notable people Zayn thought made music worth listening to was any hip-hop artist from the 90s that’s origins were Staten Island, Long Island, Uptown or the Bronx because New York was the only place that _“birthed authentic music and conversation that contributed to a global, cultural discussion”_ (Zayn’s words, not Liam’s).

 

The way he said it didn't sound so pretentious. More like an honest look into Zayn as a person.

 

_“Bein’ a young city here, East coast music makes me feel like I belong to the whole world. Not just this black hole of New York, you know that?”_

 

That’s what he told Liam one night on a fire escape from the outside of a party that was playing his favourite song as they were staring at the Brooklyn bridge.

 

The stars were infinite and immortal and they laughed about becoming one of them.

 

It was the kind of symphonic moment where they could faintly hear partying in the background of their conversation that they were totally disconnected from. Just the two of them alone together with an echoing night sky, thumping against the railing.

 

It reminded Liam of something from an Indie movie. When the main character bumps into someone in the hall or on a balcony while avoiding the party downstairs and falling in love (not that he would know anything about that…).

 

He just always remembered Zayn saying that to him that night, even though they were both off their asses and probably shouldn’t have been up there. It was the first time he heard Zayn call himself New York city instead of a black hole.

 

Liam’s been calling him that ever since like it’s his name in response to his own city nickname.

 

Liam liked his kind of confidence. It wasn’t cocky.

 

It was sadder and more humbled than he expected someone like Zayn to be. Everyone else may call him a black hole but, Liam felt the same way about Zayn that Zayn felt about himself.

 

Zayn didn’t belong to New York. He _was_ New York. He never slept and he was never alone, a city that belonged to the whole world.

 

And that is the extent Zayn’s closet has gone.

 

What Liam has learned today is that 1 - Zayn is either smokes pot in the gayest way possible or he owns a dildo equipped with a full set of balls. 2 - He may or may not be a religious, Swiftie (1 & 2 really don’t go together). 3 - he’s a suffering alcoholic with anxiety (believable). And 4 - He has an unhealthy obsession with Gigi Hadid (???).

 

Basically, everything that Liam already had questions about just multiplied by themselves.

 

How any of this connects is beyond him.

 

Anything personal about Zayn’s likes or past was left out of the picture. Not even a favourite album of his own. (Which, Liam will note, was _illmatic_ By Nas _-1994._ Zayn’s vote for the illest album of all time).

 

Sure, he knows Zayn better than probably anyone. But knowing his favourite song isn’t enough.

 

Zayn’s side of the room was so impersonal. Just a poster, ashes he shared with Liam, and a bunch of school work.

 

The most personal thing about it was that it was covered in his handwriting. He had written out all the names and information of every student he’s ever tutored with all their current schedules and old schedules in neatly placed piles and post it note reminders on his desk. It was always like that from day one.

 

He was the most organised person Liam had ever seen, sharp as a dagger. But, there was no soul to any of this. Like the person who owned this side of the room wasn’t there sometimes and Liam doesn’t just mean physically.

 

Even when Zayn was in the room sometimes, like his eyes it felt hollow. The person inside would leave the room to take a walk and maybe got lost somewhere.

 

The hollowness gave off this apocalyptic vibe inside Zayn. As if he came from a place where everyone in the world died and he was the only thing that managed to escape the same fate but, just barely. A place vacant inside he didn’t keep a story from or sentimental trinket or picture of.

 

No reminders of his mother (who Liam has met once, a very dreary woman) or father (who Liam has never seen or heard about) or a home of any kind to indicate who or where he was before here.

 

This has only made Liam wonder why, more.

 

There were so many questions about Zayn he always had in his head. They used to be simple.

 

 _What does he look like? Where is he? Is he even_ **_alive_ ** _?_

 

Now, they were complicated questions.

 

 _What are you? What do you think I am? What are_ **_we_ ** _?_

 

When it came down to it, Liam just couldn’t ask upfront. The only time they had those kinds of intimate conversations is when they were drunk, which conveniently would be the time neither of them would remember it very well.

 

Getting Zayn drunk on purpose to trap him into an honest conversation wasn’t a thing he ever considered doing like his friends suggest. There was something really sick and borderline abusive about the idea of getting Zayn drunk for his own benefit. Like feeding a junkie morphine so they go along with whatever you want without them knowing.

 

Liam’s not manipulative. He’s just the world’s best detective living with the world’s one and only living ghost.

 

He doesn’t know how to ask Zayn the stupid “what are we?” question without sounding like a dumb yuppie. Millennials don't ask that question and if they do, it's never the answer you want to hear.

 

The main reason Liam’s been obsessing over this lately was because they hooked-up way more often than before. It’s become like a routine. While Zayn would never say it, their trysts mostly just felt lumped in as another one of his frill indulgences. Like it’s become another bad habit of his.

 

It didn’t seem like a pleasure to Zayn. Just a thing he needed, like eating every day or sleeping. If you really want to go there, those things could be pleasurable too but when comparing them to an _orgasm,_ the excitement was pretty dry. Zayn’s definition of an orgasm -

 

**_Orgasm [noun: person, place or thing] - A thing that makes babies to be sorry for. Wear a fucking condom before havin’ one_ **

 

He made it sound like a burden rather than anything he got enjoyment from.

 

It was the same with getting drunk.

 

Partying and drinking wasn’t something Zayn enjoyed any more than brushing his teeth - just a _thing_ he did. His consumption of them both like an empty vacuum was another addiction he depended on as an alternate form of sustenance - his version of breakfast, lunch, dinner and sleep.

 

Vodka in his Starbucks. In a milkshake. A peripheral IV line hooked up to his veins if it were possible. He doesn’t “go to sleep”. He passes out in a liquor-induced haze or parties until he drops.

 

Everything was a cocktail. Even Liam. He couldn’t survive without them and Liam thinks he’s sorry for that. Whether the addiction was the substance abuse or Liam… they were interchangeable sometimes. Too many bad habits to be sorry for.

 

With all this religious gear, Liam wonders if that’s why he visits that priest he played chess with, in the park - possibly the most out of context thing about Zayn.

 

Every other day of the week, Zayn has a date in the park. He joins a 75-year-old man everyone called “Stone” around the corner at around noon for a game of chess, the pastor of the local Pentecostal church in Queens.

 

Also known as Leigh-Anne’s _abuelo_.

 

Liam was sure there was an interesting backstory there but, like always, he’s never asked about Zayn’s relationship with him. He does know it had something to do with Zayn's granddad. They were buddies back in the day. They both had pretty weird names so, they must’ve got along really well.

 

Liam leaves the drawer open with a sigh after running through a million thoughts as he looks at Gigi above Zayn’s bed again, welcoming The City that never slumbers to her tits.

 

He feels like he’s surrounded by clues staring him right in the face that he just can’t seem to put together in the correct sequence to make the bigger picture of Zayn that he’s missing. He's supposed to be studying from the Chanel bio sitting at his feet for his exam tomorrow morning but, design could really wait right now while Zayn was still gone, doing whatever.

 

His eyes trail over to the wardrobe, wondering what he might find on Zayn’s side of the closet.

 

He already knows what he’ll find in there. Nothing but himself. Literally, his own stuff. There’s always a new sweater that disappears from Liam’s side that mysteriously ends up on Zayn’s. The tan one he’s wearing now he just found on Zayn’s shelf earlier.

 

He doesn’t usually bother to take them back. He just leans his head back on Zayn’s bed that he woke up in this morning with no good recount of last night in its entirety.

 

He had a foggy memory of having a few too many glasses of wine downstairs in the lounge (maybe a whole bottle, he can’t remember what he did with it), then stumbling up to the room and going to sleep next to Zayn until he woke up alone.

 

Call Liam a wino if you want to but he will argue with you from sunrise to sundown that being wine drunk was a totally different, mellower experience than being damn near poisoned with the hell-fire equivalent froth of Earth known as vodka. Mostly because he could still feel his legs after a glass of wine and find the correct bed to sleep in when he’s done.

 

He never slept in his own bed that much, even if Zayn was out somewhere overnight. His bed was comfier and he didn’t mind Liam sleeping in it. He slept here so much, it smelled like both of them, a strange mixture their bodies concocted to make their own personalised cocktail.

 

Outside the window, the Brooklyn bridge stares at him.

 

The roadway is filled with traffic zipping in both directions going between Long Island and the city as a thousand strangers drive up the bridge. Then a thousand more replace them, every second of every day. Another few hundred who don’t drive probably just got off the train somewhere on the other side.

 

New York was just a big cluster of islands full of strangers. He wonders if Zayn is one of them out there, hitting on some girl downtown.

 

They can see this from their bedroom because their neighbourhood faced the very bottom of downtown Manhattan, the heart of the city with its iconic skyline right across the East River. It’s even more beautiful at night.

 

At twilight, the sky turns the skyscrapers poking out of the ground into a metallic orange that fades into dark silhouettes. Then, the lights start to turn on like a fleet of stars descended on them. Liam probably had the best view of the city in all of Brooklyn, right here in his bedroom.

 

While the room fills with cool [jazz](http://jaylanic.tumblr.com/post/168350338113/sonny-makes-me-sonny-andrea-menard-sonny), Liam fills with memories.

 

His mind sweeps back to the first time he noticed that a whole other world was right across from his room. The rivers distance closes in on him, setting him free to swim through the warm memories in his head.

 

The first time he saw the city on the other side of that bridge with Zayn, he felt its presence with every one of his senses, not just his eyes. Seeing it from that high had to be sensory overload even to a native.

 

It didn’t feel inanimate space people temporarily occupied but, something that had a soft soul that silently held entire worlds inside of it.

 

He was off his face but, he remembers that part of the night pretty vividly.

 

There was a blue moon witnessing their night from where it sat in the dark sky, breathing and beating with them. Zayn stood at the very edge of the balcony with his eyes closed like Batman overlooking Gotham. Liam was sure that if he took another step, he would’ve grown wings a flew above every street with his shadow overcast the leaden skyline. But that was the vodka thinking.

 

It was the night Liam fell in love (with the city, that is).

 

The resonance of seeing New York from the very top of an old building like that… optimal exposure. Like Liam’s container had expanded after he’d just been shown a whole other meaning in life he’d never known before.

 

He can remember hearing his heart and falling in love with his pulse even though he was all the way across the river, like he could hear New York's body and his breath next to him, enjoying the feeling of being alive together. That was the best thing about the city. With all the time he never used to sleep, he filled with something to live for. It was only at night when the sky went out that all the lights also came fully alive too.

 

 _“New York… I love you.”_ He snorts to himself, uttering the words as he closed his eyes like it was the name of a boy he fancied.

 

The first time they ever got smashed together. That one night, last September. Liam didn’t really think of the night he officially met New York as the night they almost died like his friends did.

 

More like the night they realised something even more beautiful than the skyline: that they kept each other alive.

 

**✯✯✯**

 

**_365 days ago_ **

 

The way Liam stumbled into Zayn, you would’ve thought he was blind. Seeing the end of your life flash by your eyes might do that to you.

 

He was reaching through the air with enthusiastic blindness like he was trying to reunite with the love his life that was returning home from the war that was sure to be on the other side of his hands.

 

Zayn turned around at just the right moment in time and caught Liam in surprise, returning Liam’s frantic energy as his arms caged around Liam’s body.

 

 _“Whoa there,”_ Zayn’s winded grunt as he stumbled when he caught Liam sounded like he’d just been hit by an anvil while Liam got buried into his neck, gasping from the shock of suddenly being all over him again.

 

Without a single hesitation he held Liam still so he wouldn’t fall, so oblivious to what was coming behind him that Liam forgot about it too as his senses were overloading.

 

Zayn’s heart beating slow against his chest and the warm security exuding from his body made him completely forget everything that was happening around them. It was like falling into a black hole but, in a good way because it was filled with wellness.

 

The girls asked Liam if he was alright, all of their concerned faces surrounding them. Zayn swatted them off like flies so they could have space, not letting anyone else touch Liam like he was the only one that could carefully handle this fragile jewel.

 

 _“OW!”_ Leigh-Anne snatched her hands back when he flicked her fingers,

 

“Just leave him be, he said can’t feel his legs--”

 

Did Liam say that? He couldn’t remember saying that.

 

 _“And who’s fault is that, jackass?”_ She snapped back, tugging Jesy away with a scowl.

 

They were followed by Harry, who patted Liam’s back supportively as he went by with Perrie in his hand, and Jade in Perrie’s hand.

 

And so Liam and Zayn were now alone.

 

They had finally met in the middle of an little empty pool of the dance floor as everyone made room. If Zayn wasn’t there, he was sure he would’ve knocked in his teeth on the ground. But Zayn’s arms were so strong, they felt like steel around Liam as he held his back while Liam’s went around Zayn’s neck.

 

The familiar smell of the ancient spice and cigarettes smoke in his hair made him feel way older than Liam. It added even more to this rugged edge with Liam’s chin hooked over Zayn’s shoulder to get a nose-full of soft, black hair that’s tuft fluffed each time he let out a breath.

 

It was all so contradictory. How soft he felt as opposed to how hard he looked, that depth to him Liam was already becoming addicted to touching.

 

 _“Forget how t’ walk?”_ Zayn asked in his ear with a hint of a tease.

 

Liam hadn’t forgotten how to walk. Someone had killed all the nerves in his legs and sent wild pricks to shoot up and down with each movement. He wanted to get them amputated.

 

_“You’re lucky you smell like Chanel.”_

 

Liam snorted into his shoulder with his eyes squeezed closed. He loved Chanel. He had about 5 different bottles.

 

 _“Bleu de Chanel.”_ He mumbled.

 

 _“Expensive.”_ Zayn didn’t seem surprised. Then he said, “Now since you _can_ talk, do you remember how to walk?” He enunciated carefully.

 

_“I dunno.”_

 

After seeing those big guys enter the room knowing they were on the hunt for them, Liam was trying to remember how to _fly_ . But the room was spinning like he was riding a goddamn carousel so, his mind was preoccupied. He didn’t know what the fuck was _really_ in that flask but, it had to be illegal.

 

After a quick google search a year later, he’d learn that Everclear was indeed illegal in 48 out of 50 states of America that didn’t include Kentucky or Nevada. Maybe Texas too if you knew the right guy.

 

He simply drank too much, too fast and his body was not happy about it. He hated that it took a minute to kick in because when it did, it kicked into his guts with the toe of a demon’s boot. He honest to God could not feel his legs anymore. They must’ve walked off without him. So Zayn held him until they came back.

 

Pressed against each other like this, even their hearts were hugging. Zayn’s was nice and steady while Liam’s thumped away to the beat of a fast-paced song.

 

It was similar to how Zayn held Leigh when she stumbled into him. Totally fine with it and not at all annoyed.

 

He could see why Leigh-Anne clung to him the way she did. Zayn was so sturdy and warm, Liam’s body felt stunned into a pause that went against psychics. Like feeling his even heartbeat was calming him down. He even forgot that he was on the verge of puking everywhere.

 

Liam could’ve stood up on his own by now but, he didn’t want to. There was again an illusion that there was nothing to rush for or worry about because he could trust that someone had him. Only this time, it wasn’t an illusion. Zayn really did have his back in his hands and Liam wanted to keep it there.

 

He briefly wondered what it was like to be a human magnet for clumsy people, and what would happen if Zayn walked by a pub on the Lower East Side. Would an army of drunks suddenly stumble out and kill him in an avalanche of bodies?

 

That train of thought meant he wasn’t really drunk. It was too coherent.

 

“I don’t think I’m a magnet. It’s stronger than that.”

 

Zayn’s answer to his question let him know that he’d said it out loud. And also that Zayn was very self-aware of the gravitational pull he had on people.

 

“I’m more like a vortex.”

 

 _“A vortex?”_ His chin turned a little on Zayn’s shoulder to look at the side of his head.

 

“Yeah, like a hurricane. _Everything_ gets sucked in. Bodies, animals. Lost dogs follow me around. Cops… bird shit,” Zayn smiled when Liam laughed.

 

“My superpower includes chaos and havoc so, I think it just follows me around to match my energy. Although, I don’t think it’s powerful enough to move any hood on the East side, otherwise I chose the wrong profession.”

 

He wanted to tell him he was really funny and ask if his profession was stand-up but, his stomach made an unholy sound.

 

He was afraid that if he opened his mouth again, the only thing that would come out this time was the wine and sushi he ate for dinner 2 hours ago. They really weren’t getting along with the binge attack he’d just partaken in.

 

He couldn’t stand how heavy and hot his tongue suddenly felt in his mouth. He wanted to spit it out, if only it weren’t attached to the floor of his throat and everything in his stomach. He’d never realised how many jurisdictions it had over his entire immediate future.

 

His whole body was stuck on a landmine, one move the wrong way and he’d blow to bits.

 

Even worse: he had let this beautiful asshole poison him and now, he was dying.

 

He made up in his mind that Zayn was the kind of guy that would take someone under with him if he was drowning in his own river of debauchery. And no one told Liam, the poor sucker that went and reached a hand out to a drowning man, to stop before Zayn killed him too.

 

Actually, that was a lie. They did warn Liam. He just _had_ to touch him. The question of would it be worth it hadn’t been unearthed yet.

 

 _“I’m such an idiot,”_ Liam mumbled into his shoulder, almost crying as he thought he was never gonna learn.

 

Zayn shook his head, his hands moving reassurance into Liam’s lower back.

 

“No, you’re not. You’re alright.”

 

He was so patient. The way he held Liam made him almost think he’d forgive him.

 

He was telling Liam he was okay and to take it easy, this wonderful poem of lies in Liam’s ear. He asked Liam if he wanted to go sit down again but, he didn’t know how to answer. He wanted Zayn to let him go so he wouldn’t get sick on him but, never let go at the same time.

 

His arms felt like the safest place in the room. But not even Zayn’s touch was stopping his body from ejecting everything he dunked into it.

 

He felt the sick rise again, this time at speeds too fast to stop. The momentum was _wild._ Too wild to hold in a second time.

 

_He couldn’t hold it any longer--_

 

“Liam _, Li-- wait,_ ” Zayn pulled back and begged him not to throw up on him as he physically covered Liam’s mouth with his hand (as if that would stop his projectile from turning into a sprinkler).

 

His head turned to look to the side, presumably to look for a place where Liam could do this that wasn’t at the centre of the room. He was quick-witted enough to move them closer to a table against a wall a few feet away without taking a hand off Liam’s back, both of their legs tangling and untangling as they moved across the floor that felt like it was made of ice.

 

They probably looked like they were waltzing together.

 

Everyone in their pathway had enough brains to move their useless selves out of the way which would’ve been great if only it weren’t drawing more attention. But Zayn was moving them away from the direction of the frat residents so Liam thought they’d survive the night without getting caught here.

 

He fucking _thought._

 

There was a long intermission for Liam to get sick in flowers.

 

While Zayn helped Liam find something to vomit on that wasn’t his outfit, his hand or the floor, Liam clumsily reached for whatever it was Zayn pushed in front of him. It all exploded out the second Zayn let go when the smell of dirt and pesticide scented flowers filled his nose.

 

Petunias in September? The horrid decor of this house only made him vomit more into the ugly vase.

 

The first time he receives flowers from a cute boy and he pukes on them.

 

Liam mentally gave himself a congratulatory pat on the back for surpassing his record for “most-embarrassing-thing-he’s-ever-done-in-front-of-a-crush” as he bent over the table with Zayn behind, holding his back for him.

 

This obscene spectacle went on for about 10 to 15 seconds.

 

It felt like he’d just uprooted his rib cage through his throat when he got it out. He felt better but he was still ready to demand Zayn take him to the hospital for the internal damage and pay the bill for his dry cleaning. He didn’t remember vodka being so vicious.

 

“Damn,” Zayn grimaced, holding Liam up as he pat his lower back. “I am _so_ \--”

 

_“No that wasn’t your fault, I’m sorry,”_

 

It was Zayn’s fault for practically choking Liam up and forcing it down his throat. Even though he _really_ liked that in the moment, all of it coming back up was horrible. But he just didn’t want Zayn to feel sorry for stuffing his face.

 

Whatever internal threats Liam had to sue him were diminished the second they met eyes, Zayn’s a little obstructed from his hair falling in them.

 

Zayn’s mouth was curled up into an apologetic smile and there was too much genuine worry, like he was expecting Liam to pass out on the spot.

 

Liam couldn’t contain his embarrassment. _Everyone_ saw that but he couldn’t look up at the stares. He was going to wipe off his mouth with his sleeve and disappear forever, absolutely kicking himself for going against his gut and leaving the gallery early to come here instead of staying in his room today.

 

Zayn grabbed his wrist before he could, shaking his head snatching a tissue from the table to give him before pulling Liam along with him.

 

“Kitchen,” He said, “don’t wipe anything on yourself.”

 

While Liam was lead away back towards the kitchen, he began to wonder why the hell Zayn was bothering when all the models were going the other way.

 

He _hated_ pity. The longer this went on, the worse he knew he’d feel about it all tomorrow and hope he would never see Zayn or anyone here again.

 

He couldn’t wait until he got home where he could be embarrassed alone with his non-existent roommate.

 

 _“Is everyone this nice in New York?”_ Liam asked. _“I thought you were all rude arseholes.”_

 

“Yeah, we are. One big, rude family.” Zayn nodded, then added, “And I absolutely _hate_ when you guys make “ass” sound like it’s got a R in it.”

 

Liam laughed and told him it could be spelt either way no matter how you pronounce it.

 

“And anyway,” Zayn moved on instead debating who’s got a dumber accent

 

“I just shoved 6 fluid ounces of poison down your throat and I feel bad for makin’ you feel like shit so why don’t you let me relieve my _crippling_ guilt in peace, yeah?”

 

To Liam’s ears, that _screamed_ any excuse to keep his hands on something he liked tonight.

 

Zayn reached into his back pocket and manoeuvred around his flask for a pack of gum he had stashed away behind a box of cigarettes.

 

It was one of those jeans with triple pockets, perfect for holding everything in the universe. It was also an unintentional moment of Liam checking out his… back pocket.

 

It seemed just as bottomless as his flask, no pun intended. No bottom, no problem. Better yet… problem solved.

 

He offered Liam a stick of gum between his fingers with another apologetic smile that Liam accepted. He wanted to tell Zayn if he kept smiling at him like that, he wasn’t ever going to get rid of him.

 

Instead, he said,

 

_“Someone who doesn’t like apologies and thank you’s can feel guilt for his own indulgences?”_

 

His lungs took a nice, cool breath as he asked for another stick of gum. The flavour was called _rain._ A tingling spearmint and universal elixir to nausea.

 

“You know, not to fellate myself but--”

 

 _‘I will_ **_gladly_ ** _do that for you.’_ Liam made sure not to say that one out loud as he smiled and looked at the crushed cigarettes and plastic red cups littering the ground below them.

 

“---my certification for inebriated debauchery allows me a poetic license on self-indulgence.” He told Liam.

 

“If you got any comments, questions and concerns, _my_ people could be in contact with _your_ people anytime outside of the hours of noon and 6pm on any given business day of out of the 5 day work week after we get your info.”

 

Liam laughed as Zayn cautioned the preamble to his personal constitution in a way he seemed to have prepared to recite from.

 

He stopped walking to actually make Liam write out his “information” on a gum wrapper which Liam figured meant his address and number, using Zayn’s back as a drawing board and a blue ballpoint ink pen Liam retrieved from Zayn’s saggy and bottomless, bottoms. Zayn looked over his shoulder with his lips sucked into a smile as he watched Liam write on his back, Liam's face burning the whole time.

 

Liam was definitely keeping up with the banter all the way. He was good at flirting with just about anyone and not a single detail slipped by him.

 

Zayn just casually told him the hours of the day he was free while asking for Liam’s phone number. He mostly noticed the after hours of midnight and beyond were all open.

 

This guy was pretty damn slick.

 

He handed him back his gum wrapper and held in a grin as Zayn pulled it back and looked at it like it had suddenly turned into a rubber chicken. He blinked at Liam.

 

“Is this for real?” He asked slowly. Liam nodded.

 

“19.” He said. “Your number is 19.”

 

 _“Yeah.”_ Liam nodded again with a giddy smile. _“Chanel number 19. If you want me to forgive you, I like gifts.”_

 

It was the hardest he’d made Zayn laugh yet, a magical sound.

 

“I see, your people are _hard to contact_.” Zayn nodded with a smirk as he brushed his hair back off his head with a smooth movement of his hand, which ended up around Liam’s shoulder right after.

 

Liam looked down at his hand with a smile when Zayn pulled him a little closer.

 

 _So_ so slick.

 

His hair looked really nice out of his eyes. It made him look younger with his wide eyes, soft and dewy like a doe with a dozen points of dark spots and bright lights scattered through them, glowing like burning embers beneath a flame. Even one dark point jumped out on the side of his iris like a freckle. It was like looking into the eyes of a dark universe.

 

Jesus be damned if he wasn’t the most beautiful thing Liam had ever laid eyes on. He was the perfect mix of mesmerizingly sexy.

 

“So you like Jasmine.” Zayn concluded, not at all surprising Liam that he already knew what Chanel #19 smelled like.

 

Seeing that it was in season right now, every girl around here was flocking to markets and wearing it on the street. Liam smelled it on about 3 different girls here tonight alone.

 

“You wanna gift then you’ve got it. You’re leaving here with more than a headache tonight. Consider it a souvenir from me.”

 

Did that mean Zayn was walking him home? That sounded like a great idea.

 

Though this wasn’t a very guy-like thing, Liam had made a vow not to sleep with someone the first night ever again. It wasn’t just a girl thing. He’d learned a long time ago that if you put out with someone too fast, you lose all regard as being seen as a respectful partner.

 

Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.

 

Liam still to this day does not know what the fuck was wrong with him at the moment and what lead him to say what he said next. Maybe his vow was getting to his head or he was getting too comfortable or maybe some of the alcohol had killed a few of his brain cells but, he looked at Zayn and said,

 

_“That’s a nice way to admit that you’re also an enabling alcoholic like the Crypt.”_

 

It wasn’t really the implication that Zayn got him drunk on purpose that made him regret saying it but, the actual words he used. He didn’t know why he made such an insensitive comment. It just came out before he could stop it.

 

He was thinking about what the girls were saying about staying away from Zayn and not going home with him so his thoughts sort of jumped out of his head and spoke for themselves again, leading him to believe that maybe he _was_ drunk. It reached his bloodstream fast enough for him to lose control of a filter.

 

Whether or not he was in the right head space in saying such a foot in the mouth thing, nothing could excuse him from the look Zayn gave him in response to that remark.

 

Zayn looked at Liam, thrown with a caged animal sort of look on his face.

 

For a split second, Liam almost thought Zayn was about to let him fall on the ground and leave him there. It was like Liam saw all the charm actually leave his body and replace with a stone-eyed alarm.

 

Instead, Zayn’s grip actually got a little more secure.

 

“... plead the fifth.” He resigned with, squeezing Liam’s shoulder as he began to walk again.

 

He was looking ahead with a frown as he side-eyed Liam, probably wondering about where the hell that came from, just the same as Liam was.

 

That was when Liam made sure not to talk about his grandfather.

 

“I just wanna make sure you’re alive tomorrow, Liam. I don’t sleep well with blood on my hands knowing I fucked someone over.”

 

There was no hint of a joke or anything that could be interpreted as flirty in his tone, just plain old-fashioned honesty.

 

Liam looked at how hollow his eyes were from this angle like they changed depending on the lighting. They looked so glossy, you could probably see your own reflection. Although he got a feeling inside that it wasn’t the lighting at all but the person inside that shined out. He could see his mood through his eyes and where they pointed him to and when it caged him up inside.

 

Right now, the light was turned off as he pointed far away. Like he wasn’t here in this room but far off in some distant dystopia.

 

 _This_ person looked like he hadn’t slept well in years.

 

He reached into his own pocket and gave Zayn a card with his number and address for real this time since he actually had a legitimately sweet reason for wanting it, not really caring anymore if Zayn was flirting with him or just being a decent human being for wanting to walk Liam home. He pocketed it with a tight smile.

 

He’d enjoy getting a call from him tomorrow and telling him he survived. And maybe skipping the opera he bought tickets for and going to Tammy’s instead as he suspected it might’ve been Zayn’s favourite place to get coffee. He had a tape of La Traviata he could watch at home.

 

He wasn’t thinking about any of this romantically at this point, even if Zayn did have an impressive jawline and lips that looked perfect for being treated like a seat. He was thinking he actually wanted to be friends with him.

 

With all this pure concern that Liam didn’t die tonight and everything that had happened to him within the last hour, he was probably the nicest person Liam had ever met.

 

His arms around Zayn’s waist tightened as he was safely guided along through the crowd of people again, enjoying being taken care of and bossed around in the most polite way possible. Zayn told Liam how to suppress the urge to gag by squeezing his thumb into his left fist if the gum wasn’t stopping him from feeling like throwing up again.

 

“At least then, you can buy yourself like 4 or 5 seconds to find a safe place to do it instead of exploding on the spot.”

 

Liam already knew how to suppress his gag reflex. But Zayn’s knowledge about it too got him wondering why on Earth would _he_ know that kind of “tip” Liam had only learned in the boys' locker rooms.

 

He looked at Zayn with studious concentration while watching him talk, studying his body language and reevaluating his overall vibe again.

 

It was like a blind person trying to read braille by staring at it.

 

_‘Is he…?’_

 

No… he couldn’t be. This guy fucked models. There was no way.

 

_… right?_

 

The only vibe Liam was getting from him was that he looked _way_ more familiar from behind.

 

Leigh-Anne’s loud voice started calling Zayn’s name behind them from some distant recess on the other side of the room they’d long since left behind, breaking Liam’s curious thoughts as they looked back in their direction. Her head was popping out of the crowd from her hopping up and down to get all 5 foot 6 of her seen.

 

Zayn gave her a half-hearted wave of his hand to go ahead without them so he would catch up later.

 

She called him on his cell phone a few seconds later to tell him they were heading to the tenth floor because they heard the DJ from Harry’s band was up there.

 

 _“Harry’s in a band?”_ Liam whispered and Zayn shook his head no, taking his mouth away from the phone.

 

“He _has_ a band."

 

_"Oh... he's their manager?"_

 

Harry seemed like he'd have a really successful future in business or being an investment banker if he'd take his sociable talents and money to Wall Street. Zayn laughed when Liam said that.

 

"More like he runs a bad hedge fund that isn't going anywhere so, he sells drugs on the side to make up for his lost cause. I promise you, I’ve subjected you to enough torture tonight. We don't have to go up there--”

 

 _“HEY, FUCK YOU!”_ Harry’s voice jumped across the room after.

 

They looked at each other and began laughing again. Liam assured him he felt fine now and that he wouldn't mind hearing Harry's risky investment.

 

_"What are they called?"_

 

Harry's voice jumped out of the phone.

 

 ** _"SEAINE!"_** He answered.  _"Spelled with SEA, pronounced like SHINE, all capitalised with an exclamation point! **We**_ **'d love it if you hung out and kicked it with us for a bit!** _”_

 

Zayn's friends were really nice. After seeing Liam's enthusiasm, Zayn rolled his eyes and agreed they’d be there right behind them.

 

Listening to them talk on the phone to each other almost made Liam laugh, the way they had equally loud voices. Even a normal conversation sounded like a screaming argument. Everything they said ended with an exclamation point.

 

While Zayn talked to his friends from 20 feet across the room, Jesy smiled when she saw that his arm was still around Liam even though it didn’t need to be. Even Harry broke out into giggles after she says something to them that makes all the girls look back at Liam at the same time after Zayn says into the receiver that Liam needed air.

 

He didn’t know why but, it made him blush.

 

 **_“Put Liam on the phone.”_ ** He heard Leigh-Anne say it before Zayn registered it.

 

 _“What?”_ He squinted.

 

**_“Put LIAM on the PHONE!”_ **

 

Liam took it from him with furrowed brows.

 

_“Yeah?”_

 

**_“Liam, don’t walk home with him.”_ **

 

_“I’m sorry, what?”_

 

He heard her perfectly loud and clear but he asked her to repeat it anyways as if she’d say something less ominous a second time. Jesy’s voice took over.

 

**_“Listen to us. There are people here looking for him. I know you think he’s cute but hanging out with him is going to get you into trouble-"_**

 

Zayn rolled his eyes and took the phone, telling them _fuck off_  and _goodbye_ and that he’d see them later, hanging up before Liam could process what the hell they were ever talking about. Mind you - he’d still forgotten about the people Zayn had just pissed off so they were walking on shaky grounds.

 

He started telling Liam that he didn’t like his girls walking around alone in the street when it started getting dark but, they were in a decent group now and Harry was tall enough to be intimidating so if they decided to leave the building, they’d be okay without them.  

 

They all seemed to have the very definition of a love-hate relationship with Zayn, their “thank you’s” and “love you’s” replaced with a _fuck you_ attached to a hug.

 

He was a real gent under all that bravado. Liam didn’t think he deserved all the bad reviews.

 

He zoned out as he was listening to him, the same nagging question never leaving his thoughts. Usually, when talking to a guy this question could be deciphered within 5 minutes, 10 _tops._ They were carrying on an hour here and Liam was still debating on heterosexual or humanitarian?

 

Whatever he was, if Zayn needed to relieve his “guilt” or whatever with Liam tonight, he had no reason to stop him.

 

Even if it was just listening to Zayn rambling with words Liam tuned out almost the entire time.

 

It wasn’t that he was boring. He just talked so loud it was almost distracting from what he was even saying. Too loud and too much, but it was in a way you’d actually enjoyed hearing because of the funny way some of his words dropped the last few letters and the cute way his lips quirked around each sound.

 

Whether he was listening or not, Liam just liked watching him.

 

And then, they get to the threshold of the kitchen where Liam saw a flash of 3 Letterman jackets.

 

He was startled by the reminder danger lurking here, like he’d just looked down and noticed they smeared with blood and swimming in shark-infested waters. It wasn’t just a sick feeling that he had to vomit like before. He knew what would happen if they were seen and Liam hated fights.

 

The crowd was the safest place they could be.

 

He practically body slammed into Zayn to take him out of sight.

 

Zayn was not expecting to be met with all of Liam so suddenly but it was all he could do to not be caught entering the frat boy swamp ahead. He could hear their squeaky boots from the wooden floors that were still trashed with beer, ambling their way now which either meant they were caught or they were about to _be_ caught.

 

He pulled him forward by his hands, back into the crowd as if they could spontaneously vanish into it and yanked Zayn down to the floor with him right after so they were on their knees between the lines of dancing shoes and disgusting trash on the ground Liam knew he was going to have to burn the scent of off his clothes.

 

 _“Awf,”_ Zayn made an offended face as his hands shot up at the sight of the ground.

 

“This is _disgusting!--”_

 

Liam stopped him from standing back up, holding his shoulders as he hissed for him to wait.

 

The shoes of the enemy could be seen ahead.

 

It was now he got a really good, humbling look at Zayn. He blinked at Liam with heavy, unfocused eyes, clearly tipsy himself. Maybe more than tipsy.

 

Liam hadn’t even realised that Zayn was intoxicated this entire time.

 

Jesy said he was drunk all day and all night so, tonight was not an exception.

 

_“He rambles about nonsense, then he’s an emotional wreck mumbling about nonsense and then he’s a raging monster and he explodes. Beware before approaching.”_

 

He sort of dismissed everything she said about him but now, Liam realised he was dealing with Zayn slowing moving through his red-levels of going from tipsy to totally drunk.

 

Apparently, the next step from this was a mumbling ball of emotions. Then, angrier than God almighty. Last level: out cold.

 

Liam could detect where he was on the scale pretty easily right now. He wasn’t slurring any words, his head was levelled and he wouldn’t shut up. So Zayn was just warming up. The night was still young but Liam was not letting the Hulk rip out of Zayn tonight.

 

If Liam had 6 fluid ounces, Zayn had to have had twice as much. Based on how tolerant of that stuff he had to be to drink it like it was water, they were essentially on the same level.

 

“You lose a contact?” Zayn squinted at Liam’s eyes like he was trying to see imperfect-sight.

 

“ _No,”_ Liam shook his head as he went between looking at Zayn and the shoes ahead with distress, backing away on his hands and knees and pulling Zayn along with him.

 

“Then why are we down here?”

 

_“Randy’s friends are out there!”_

 

 _“Randy?!?”_ Zayn cried with a loud guffaw as he stopped him.

 

“That’s was you’re so scared of? I thought Freddie Cougar was out there!”

 

He put one hand on Liam’s shoulder with a single shake.

 

“Listen to me, Liam,” He started. Then he hiccuped.

 

“You only get to fear two things in Brooklyn and a frat boy ain’t an option. Especially not a _putz_ like fuckin’ Randy Macgyver and his pack of chimps so, choose again.”

 

Liam, unfortunately, wasn’t as fearless as Zayn. He had 16 things to fear in Brooklyn tonight. As Zayn stood them up again, Liam asked him what did he fear if not the fragility of his life.

 

Zayn looked Liam in the eye, totally serious again.

 

“Death… and my mother’s cuisine. They go hand in hand.”

 

Liam turned Zayn around and held his shoulders from behind to point him in the direction where he could see the small fleet approaching them now that their cover was fully blown and Zayn’s eyes rolled.

 

“ _Fantastic_ ,” He groaned. “ _Now_ he grows balls.”

 

Sometimes, over-confidence got people killed. _Drunk_ over-confidence was even worse. It turned into the kind of deluded arrogance that got people like reality show hosts to run for office. It was all fun and games until it went too far and you’re stuck with some drunk asshole for president, fucking you over in whatever already shitty situation you’re in.

 

In this shitty situation, Liam would have just tossed himself out the damn window. There was nothing stopping him from making a run for it, _screaming_ after seeing no other way out. But the windows were nowhere nearby and he wasn’t going anywhere without Zayn in tow because this dude seriously didn’t know when to bail on his own. And he wasn’t about to let Zayn get the living fuck beaten out of both of them either.

 

Fortunately enough, adrenaline was a hell of a lot stronger than vodka. This was something Liam was the best at.

 

Run for your life.

 

[ [Buggin' Out - A Tribe Called Quest] ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yTBhwGSAQxk)

 

_“Ay,”_

 

They already saw Liam backing away, tugging on Zayn. He backs away faster.

 

**“AY!”**

 

He counted about 4 more of these before they finally got the hint that they weren’t staying for conversation.

 

And now, everyone’s running.

 

Liam took off, pulling Zayn along with him until Zayn turned and shoved his way to the front and through the crowd to lead the way. He promised Liam he would get him home in one piece. He was not a half-stepper. If they were making it out alive, they were stomping out.

 

_“‘Cuse me… EXCUSE me, move the FUCK outta the way please!”_

 

He never used his hands. It didn’t matter who you are, if you did not move out of Zayn’s way, he practically kicked in your shins.

 

His hand stayed in Liam’s and based on how soft and pretty they were, Liam believed that Zayn was not a fighter who threw his fists. He threw his Timbs with the same skill skaters do.

 

He suddenly wondered if Zayn had a skateboard. The back of his head kind of reminded him of someone he sometimes seen rolling through this neighbourhood and his apartment building.

 

This one guy that dressed like a dick and left a trail of pot smoke in a building where smoking wasn't allowed.

 

He dismissed the fleeting thought, cast away as he focused on not tripping over his own feet.

 

 _“There’s another door that way!”_ Liam pointed to the side but Zayn shook his head no.

 

_“I can’t leave my skateboard here!”_

 

Sometimes, it scared Liam how observant he was. His garbled thoughts chalked it up as just a coincidence.

 

He kept looking back to make sure Liam was there when he let go to break into a full-on sprint. Liam was suddenly a highly-functioning drunk too. These boys were ducking and diving like an olympians through the hurdles of dancing patrons, never pausing once. They tripped 3 skinny hipster boys but they didn’t have time to stop for apologies as they hopped over. He couldn’t feel his legs again but, that didn’t stop him.

 

They took the long way around the room just to shake the guys behind them until they lost them in the crowd. But it was all in vain. They ended up at the threshold of the kitchen again to get Zayn’s skateboard that was leaning against the wall.

 

Liam remembered too late that he’d counted 3 more guys over here not too long ago and going this way was a bad call.

 

And of course, they had to show up right then.

 

Randy’s friends popped up and Zayn stopped in his tracks and put his hands up like he was being arrested. He pulled out this charming smile while Liam plastered into the back of him, holding Zayn’s shoulders in terror and getting ready to throw up all over again.

 

“AYE!” Zayn greeted them with such genuine delight, they paused for a second like he’d stunned them with a hat trick.

 

“Funny seeing you here, amirite?”

 

“We LIVE here!”

 

“You _don’t_ say.” He pushed his hands on his hips to pose with astonishment.

 

 _“Listen here you little undercooked scrotum,”_ The biggest one in the middle stepped up to Zayn with his hand bunching up his collar.

 

He looked like WWE’s “The Undertaker” squeezed into a 20-year-old’s clothes.

 

“I told you if you show up in this neighbourhood again and you’re good as _DEAD_.”

 

“First of all, you’ve been saying that shit since we were in the 6th grade. I just moved over here 2 weeks ago and that officially makes us NEIGHBOURS. So you can take this eviction notice and _shove it_ . _”_ He said back.

 

“ _Second_ of all, my guy just sold you a fat sacka gas and you’re _threatening_ me?” Zayn swiped the guys hands off his shirt with an appalled face, like he was confused about what they were talking about right now.

 

“That’s just bad manners, man. This party was Night of the Livin’ _Dead_ before I arrived.”

 

That was true. He could say he was singlehandedly responsible for the amount of uncoordinated dancing and intoxication happening around them.

 

Liam had since got a signal from a hand behind Zayn’s back when he felt fingers tapping his belly to get his attention.

 

Zayn was pointing 4 o’clock to their left.

 

Sure enough, there was a tiny closed window that Liam could easily squeeze through with a balcony on the other side and a fire escape attached to it. The space leading to it was perfectly empty, free to speed on through without injuring anyone.

 

Liam let go of Zayn and backed away slowly while Zayn was distracting this section of the frat house surrounding him now, allowing Liam to slip out without being noticed. For once, he was grateful for his perpetual blind-spot syndrome working in his favour as everyone’s attention was sucked into the vortex that was Zayn.

 

He got to the window and opened it to let the freezing cold September ice slap him sober but he stopped when he heard, _“Just because you fucked Gi doesn't make you a God.”,_ behind him.

 

_"Everybody on the East coast fucked her. At least my girlfriend isn't a whore."_

 

_"That's really funny considerin who's bed she slept in last weekend."_

 

He wasn't sure what they were talking about but he looked back at Zayn and the Undertaker was in his face. But Zayn was, of course, completely calm. Maybe even amused.

 

_"Are you saying you fucked my girlfriend?"_

 

 _“No. I'm not the one pulling erroneous bullshit outta my ass, Eddie. And I definitely ain't the one hyping someone up who sleeps with half of this house as my girlfriend cause Bella isn't the saint you think she is. As if you can even consider 180 seconds and no head as fucking someone, which is just embarrassing. That's facts. Ask your 'brothers'.”_ He nodded up towards the guys behind them.

 

Even Liam felt that. There was a crowd growing around them, like they all couldn't help being pulled into Zayn's general vicinity.

 

 _“I wouldn't be so excitable over that 180 seconds on her pelvis - not my words but you can quote me on it. That ain't fuckin' nobody. That's 3 minutes, which is barely a step above dry-humping so you go ahead and yell 'I'm the side piece in my relationship' even louder. Last, her sister's name being worth 6 figures now doesn't mean shit to me just cause I came on it. Your insecurity is a conversation you need to take up with the girl your currently dry-humping, not with me in front of half of Brooklyn."_ He gestures to their audience around them.

 

Liam would've almost felt sorry for this dumb bastard if only he weren't so busy picking his jaw up off the ground.

 

Zayn stopped him before he could respond and he shuts the hell up because Zayn isn't done obliterating him.

 

 _“Matter of fact, just take some friendly advice.”_ He started seriously.

 

Liam looked down and noticed his foot had moved his skateboard underneath that he was gradually and inconspicuously rolling forwards while distracting the attention with his loud voice and hands.

 

_“Go back home. Try to grow a 9-inch cock this time to jackhammer her with and maybe she’ll like licking your mans too, yeah? Not my fault you dunno where a clit is.”_

 

That was when Eddie swung at Zayn out of the blue even though Zayn basically told him that his frat are the ones fucking his "girlfriend".

 

As if he was expecting it, Zayn pulled his head back right out of the flying fists range that missed by a centimetre. And then he did something unexpected. As he pulled back, he lifted up his leg and stomped on his board so it flew up.

 

The only thing that got a hit was Zayn’s skateboard in Eddie’s face.

 

His aim was perfect. It went between them, right smack into the bridge of the Undertaker’s nose between his eyes.

 

It stunned him as he stumbled back into the other two guys.

 

When someone else from behind grabbed his back, Zayn shoved him off his shoulders and kicked his board behind him when it came back down so the guy would slip on it and fall back against everyone else in a domino effect that even caught a few innocent bystanders and reached all the way to the long table against the wall as at least 15 people got knocked over.

 

Zayn was possibly the only person in the world that didn’t need to know how to fight to take out half of the house. It was like everyone in the frat fighting to defend their honour brought loaded guns to a wrecking ball at a demolition site.

 

After embarrassing this entire frat house and airing all of their asses out, there would probably never be another party here again.

 

Zayn had to be the most jaded guy on the planet. None of this phased him or managed to get a single rouse out of his bored expression like he was just bored of wasting his time being here.

 

 _"Dumbasses."_ Zayn shook his head as his foot caught his board from behind like he had eyes in the back of his head, nonchalantly lighting a cigarette in his mouth as he hopped on it without even looking.

 

He was so concentrated on cupping his hands to shield the flame, it should’ve been impossible that he didn’t trip over it too but he took off with one push, hopping over the threshold as it flipped under his feet, hands casually in his pockets and a grimace on his face while everyone else was distracted by the trainwreck on their right.

 

The flower vase full of vomit had fallen off the table and crashed on the ground, spilling out a nasty concoction of stomach curdled-infused dirt in front of the 10 other guys who were running over this way.

 

They all slipped on its contents and we’ll just say that their outfits were no longer wearable.

 

Liam felt a little disgusted and a tiny bit thrilled that he micro-managed to save the day here. He got Zayn outta sight and they sort of took down the entire frat house together. It was a beautiful team.

 

When Liam looked back over to find Zayn again, he was gone.

 

It all happened so fast if you blinked once you would’ve missed the whole thing.

 

All that was left from Zayn was a trail of literal smoke and chaos in his wake, as he promised there to be. The remaining 5 frat guys who weren’t covered in puke or nursing a bleeding nose noticed he was gone at the same time Liam did and they all split up, pissed as ever.

 

Liam should’ve climbed through the window and made it to the ground by now and gone home. Zayn had his number and Liam had a memorable first-ever frat party experience. But it felt wrong to end the day without seeing Zayn again or knowing for sure if he got out too.

 

He abandoned the window and went back to the kitchen to find Zayn and make sure he was okay.

 

He wasn’t anywhere in sight in the kitchen nor in the foyer at all. Just frat guys ducking around like they’d find him stowed away in the cabinets.

 

Zayn hadn’t let him in on this part of the plan. That is assuming they had a plan.

 

 _“Liam? Where are you--_ **_HEY!”_ **

 

Liam whipped around towards Zayn’s angry voice behind him. He was outside, through the kitchen’s tiniest window and leaning in from the balcony glaring at Liam like he was the idiot who didn’t listen to instruction.

 

_“What the fuck are you still doing in there?!?”_

 

To be fair Liam was not fluent in ASL so, he wasn’t sure where he was supposed to be after going outside. But it clearly wasn’t to go back into the kitchen after everything it took to get out of here both the first and second times.

 

Zayn got a smile on his face, telling Liam he wasn’t really mad at all.

 

_“You livin' with me or you wanna die with them?”_

 

It was an offer. Get a beat down of death or jump to immortality with Zayn?

 

It wasn’t a question that needed to be answered. He hurried over to the window and Zayn help pull him up, one hand down Liam’s back while the other held his hand.

 

Liam looked back at the guys in the kitchen again, who are now alerted to Zayn escaping and he panicked. Even if they didn’t give him a second glance, seeing them go after Zayn terrified him even more.

 

They were on the 5th or 6th floor of this building. If he got into a fight on that fire escape or even tripped the wrong way, any one of them could easily fall to their deaths or at the very least, fall on broken legs.

 

As the nearest guy raced towards them, Liam thought fast to kick the keg behind at him with his dangling leg. It was lying on the ground and in perfect line to throw him off. It wasn’t even that much force but it still swept right under his feet and sent him to the ground and Zayn jumped, startled with a wide grin as he dropped his cigarette from his mouth.

 

_“Oh my God,”_

 

He seemed shocked by Liam’s act of violence as he pulled him all the way out of the window, Liam laughing into him.

 

 _“You’d kill feh me you crad-zy boy?”_ Zayn laughed after locked the window, giving the guys inside the bird.

 

  
Liam’s brows shot up at the accent he’d just put on. He’d rolled his tongue around the words with either an Indian or Pakistani accent. All he thought to himself was if Zayn's tongue could do that to his R's, he wondered what it could do to him.

 

If only he’d seen Liam’s expulsion when he got out of the hell hole known as high school. He wouldn’t shit himself.

 

Lou did.

 

As Liam collected himself, he thought that maybe he’d tell Zayn the story of how he purposely got sent to boarding school one day. But he highly doubted they’d ever get personal enough to start sharing horror stories about ex’s. Zayn's were probably more interesting than his.

 

With the adrenaline peaking so much, he didn’t even flinch at seeing how far away from the ground they were or how dodgy the fire escape holding them over it was.

 

Zayn moved Liam to the side so he could take a few steps back to kick at the lock until it broke, not that anyone else but them could fit through this tiny window.

 

He sure had a lot of energy for someone who’d taken over a dozen dudes. Liam was too winded to even reply yet after all that running as he leaned on the railing now that his legs were giving out again, wiping the sweat off his dome and spitting over the edge to the ground.

 

Slippery ice sickles sliced under his fingers when he grabbed it for leverage, melting under his hot hands.

 

The drop was lethal. One slip and they were scattered omelettes.

 

Zayn looked at him with mischief in his smile, moving his hands together with an evil grin.

 

 _"Suffering for eternity with me tonight?"_  

 

He gave him another offer as he reached into his back pocket. Liam was half afraid he was about to pull out a key to unlock the gates of hell with and half thrilled about it.

 

He pulled out his flask instead, waving it again like he's been all night as he gave a little toast to a drink.

 

Liam's answer?

 

 _“More like DIE for you.”_ Liam wheezed finally. _“I feel like I'm already off my entire nut, mate-”_

 

Zayn grabbed Liam to stop him from climbing down.

 

“It’s rusted down there. I can’t have you dying on me.” He told him, handing him his flask.

 

Liam hesitated but he didn't want Zayn to think he was a wuss. So, he took another drink as he squeezed his eyes close.

 

It went down much smoother than the first time and the burn felt good in the cold. Smooth enough for him to take another drink. It was starting to taste like water, only instead of giving him rejuvenation, it kept him warm. Zayn took it from his mouth as he told him to slow down, patting his stomach with the back of his hand.

 

“You keep me alive. Gotta keep you around.”

 

_"Suffering with you is staying alive?"_

 

"After immortality it is." He reasoned, nodding to poison. "Drink from me and live forever."

 

Him quoting Queen of the Damned seemed accurate, like his flask actually contained his soul. He was sure if he took another sip tonight, he'd fall into an eternal slumber. All these offers and enticing promises were starting to sound like the kind of temptations the devil probably gave Eve in the garden of Eden.

 

It seemed like Liam was also choosing to live a life of sin as he let Zayn push for him to go the other way.

 

 _“Come on, London. Move it!”_ He yelled as shaking Liam’s shoulders so he’d climb up instead.

 

It seemed to go against logic and he didn't know where Zayn was taking him to but, Liam trusted him enough to think he wasn’t leading them into more doom by going up instead of down. He didn’t know how many levels they were climbing but, it feel pretty fucking high. He didn’t dare look down to check. It might’ve been cold but the air was dry and windless. The kind of atmosphere that makes people do drunk, thirsty things.

 

They got off the first ladder and Zayn went to lead the way to the next one as he passed Liam who followed behind.

 

The way the apartments in this building worked was similar to the one Liam lived in down the street. Every fire escape lead to an apartment. Every apartment lead to a shared hallway at the core of the building like a skeleton connecting each floor, wooden staircase to wooden staircase.

 

It didn’t matter which one they used to get out. As long as it wasn’t any that belonged to anyone in Alpha Beta Phi.

 

Liam only hoped no one was in the hall so they could sneak out without having to run another marathon. He didn’t think he’d survive attempting to run downstairs in this state. A straight line already took 100% focus.

 

A big white cloud blew away from Zayn, into the air above his head. From behind, Liam couldn’t tell if it was smoke or his breath from the cold.

 

It was a while before anyone said anything and Liam had lost count of how many levels they’d gone.

 

“If anarchy and chaos is your profession, does that make you some kind of demon?” Liam’s voice was finally loud enough for him to hear himself out here.

 

He saw the cigarette dangling from Zayn’s mouth from his profile when he looked to the side.

 

“You could say it’s my night job.”

 

Liam thought about that, looking for a title.

 

“Trouble-maker in Brooklyn.”

 

“I like anarchist in New York. Sounds more sophisticated.”

 

He loved the way he said New _York._

 

 _Love love love._ Liam was just tossing that word around in his head without any careful thought at all tonight.

 

“What’s your day job?”

 

They were getting closer to the racing sounds of Interstate 278, the BQ expressway that ran through northern Brooklyn. The sound of it was too loud to hear anything as he shivered, holding his arms as tight as possible to retain some heat.

 

“Are you cold--”

 

“No, I’m fine,” Liam responded quickly when Zayn looked back at him, trying to stay focused on the sound of the expressway.

 

The adrenaline had finally run out, allowing his head to clear.

 

He started asking himself what the hell had he just gotten himself into. It was like he’d just looked at everything from the outside and seen for himself what happened. How close he came to getting hurt being all over this complete stranger, letting Zayn drag him around without knowing where they were going or what would happen and trusting him to no end, falling in love with everything about it.

 

Even looking ahead now and seeing the edge of the building. It was like he was following Zayn towards the edge of Earth.

 

It was too dangerous.

 

Maybe it was normal to get nervous around a guy like him but, it was finally unrelated to any biased those girls filled Liam’s head with.

 

He was now simply wondering for himself why he was attracted to boys that scared him and why he put himself in positions to be hurt because of it.

 

This space between them needed to stay in place now. Even if Liam had to freeze in it.

 

“You’re cold.” Zayn snorted, slowing down so they were walking side by side.

 

Zayn was sure to stay on the frightening side were the edge of the building hung off while Liam stayed safely inside near the brick wall. It was like he knew Liam was afraid, and not of the heights.

 

He kept a reasonable distance and his hands stayed in his pockets instead of on Liam now. But the heat his body emitted made Liam gravitate closer, against his better wishes, making their shoulders bump every other step of the way.

 

He could hear his heart beating in his ears like a drum as he held in his lips and stared at all the windows they went by.

 

A few they passed were full of dancing bodies in neon-lit rooms, [ music ](http://jaylanic.tumblr.com/post/168465635473/party-audio)bouncing around against the rails and vibrating the metal under their feet ticklishly. It was a good distraction from his nervous thoughts he concentrated on keeping in his head.

 

As they passed by window after window, some of the dancers were swirling around on the floors like totem spinner tops and Liam stopped to gape at them in awe.

 

 _“Wow!”_ He gasped.

 

“B-Boys and flygirls.” Zayn said from his side.

 

“What’s that?”

 

Zayn walked ahead and turned back so he was facing Liam and looking through the windows too while walking backwards.

 

“Break-dancers. You know, when they dance on the floor during the break of a song--”

 

“Yeah, I know what a breakdancer is.” Liam snorted with his eyes closed.

 

“Aren’t those terms from the 90s?”

 

Zayn shrugged.

 

“They’re kind of like those roaches that survive atomic explosions. They’re never gonna leave New York.”

 

While Liam laughed a little, Zayn told him to look out in for a girl twerking to heavy metal because that window will be their pit stop.

 

“How does someone twerk to heavy metal?”

 

“After 4 shooters, Leigh-Anne will twerk to a police siren. Girl’s lit as hell.”

 

Liam started laughing as they searched through windows and looked the girl that was the most live.

 

The sky wasn’t completely black yet. It was a cool, peacock blue faded into twilight indigo. The kind that was fading on their side, getting darker and darker the closer they got to the edge.

 

“I'm a tutor at NYU, by the way.”

 

Liam blinked over at him again.

 

“Huh?”

 

“That's the answer to your question. My day job.” He explained more.

 

“Oh… "

 

So he was a human being by day. It seemed like he's just invited Liam to ask him more he wanted to know.

 

"How many victims?”

 

“Over 1,000.”

 

Liam didn’t know if he was joking or not.

 

“Is that a lot?”

  
  
“NYU’s got over 50,000 enrolled a year. Tutoring 200 students a year, 100 a semester, every year for 5 years? That's plenty.”

 

He told Liam he started it when he was 14, putting ads in the paper for extra money (when people still read papers). Mostly for people that needed help in English and literature but a few sprinkles of advanced chemistry and statistics the more people he got, which turned into massive study groups he conducted in libraries.

 

No one gave getting help from a 14-year-old tutor a second thought because he was a genius.

 

Discovered he loved teaching and has been addicted to it ever since.

 

“Can’t go wrong talking to people who’ll listen.”

 

So he was an insane human by day. What 14-year-old likes teaching college students?

 

“So you're smart.”

 

Zayn squinted a little.

 

“Was that a question and statement?”

 

“Both.”

 

“There wasn’t a question mark.”

 

“Wiseass.” Liam tried not to smile, “You're smart.”

 

“You know, I've been waiting to hear you speak since the beginning of the semester.”

 

 _Chills_ stopped Liam.

 

He stood there, staring at Zayn in front of him unblinking. Zayn stopped too, this huge smirk on his face with his lip bitten in.

 

It was all so familiar again. He searched all over every part of his face and found nothing he’d seen before today, unable to pinpoint where they’ve met or how the fuck had he forgot a face like that if they had.

 

"...have we…?"

 

He couldn't even finish the word that his brain was grasping at.

 

_Do we know each other?_

 

"Dude I sit right behind you. You’re like, the shyest person ever."

 

And then it hit Liam harder that Zayn’s skateboard in Eddie’s face.

 

Where he’d seen Zayn before. Why he knew how to quote that movie. Why he saved Liam in the kitchen.

 

Maybe they didn’t know each other but… they did.

 

His eyes grew wide at the flash of the kid behind him that sleeps through every last lecture in his 8am English Literature and Film studies class.

 

"Zayn _MALIK_ , you DICK!" Liam blurted as he leapt forward and pushed him while Zayn laughed.

 

“Whoa there, Mr. Potty--"  _hiccup_   _"--mouth.”_

 

He belched as he started laughing.

 

MALIK - This was someone whose face he’d never actually seen before that everyone always talked about.

 

He'd only seen the sluggish way he hung over his desk and the back of his head when he left early every day on his skateboard.

 

“ _You’re_ ‘hung-over douchebag’?!?”

 

It came out like that was Liam’s nickname for him. It was actually everyone's nickname. He wasn’t at all offended by his title so Liam figured it wasn't the first time he heard it.

 

He dropped his skateboard behind him as he lost his footing from Liam pushing him, the cigarette falling out of his mouth and down through the grate below them as he was stumbling back, drunkenly off-balance.

 

Liam reached out and caught his hands before he tripped over it.

 

His hands were up after in surrendering after, as if to say he knows he’s a dick and he agrees.

 

"I TOTALLY SIT RIGHT NEXT TO YOU!"

 

“I TOTALLY KNOW! BLIMEY MATE!” Zayn yelled back at him, mocking him. 

 

Liam pushed him again in frustration for making fun of him, not caring if he actually fell this time.

 

“Technically, you sit in front of me. And _ignore_ me.”

 

“I ignore YOU?” Liam was beside himself, pushing his hair back astonishingly.

 

“Yes! I can stand right in your face and you wouldn’t even recognise me--”

 

“You’re never _awake!_ ”

 

Zayn rolled his wildly unfocused eyes with a laugh to the side as Liam continued to yell at him.

 

“What... the _hell!?_ Why did you act like you didn’t know me?”

  
  
"I mean… I don’t. Not really.” Zayn shrugged honestly.

 

“I wasn't sure if it was really you at first. Then I figured it out after you ignored me again, like always. I was kinda hoping you’d say something when you walked up to me but,” He trailed off after rambling again.

 

Liam held his head with his eyes closed as he paced back and forth.

 

So Zayn _was_ watching him and he was waiting for him to say hi that entire time!

 

He felt like screaming or punching him for no reason at all.

 

“Why didn’t you SAY anything?!? Don’t you _speak_ to people you want to talk to?”

 

“Because I just figured out that you’re fuckin’ AFRAID OF ME!” Zayn yelled at him with his shiny, wide grin. His whole face was lit up, glowing with a flush tented across his nose.

 

“Jesus, you sound like my mother! And _anyway_ , I wasn’t expecting you to sound like that. It kinda threw me off."

 

Liam’s cheeks were burning hard as he covered his smiling face.

 

“‘M not afraid of you.”

 

“Yeah, you are.”

 

Alright, he was. But he was warming up to him now.

 

“I know I’ve got a bit of a resting bitch face goin' but, I promise you I’m very nice.”

 

It was all too rich for words. So Liam said nothing. Only smiling at Zayn and his totally awake, suddenly un-intimidating face from the way his smile felt so endearing.

 

"Small world."

 

"New York… it isn’t such a big place." Zayn nodded in agreement as they began walking again.

 

“I once saw the same rat outside of my apartment every day for a week. Think it was stalking me. I had to take a different route.”

 

Liam laughed loudly into his hands, shaking his head at him.

 

_“You’re so silly.”_

 

He couldn’t stop smiling and staring at Zayn now as he watched him talk.

 

He never in a million years would’ve thought he’d be partying with “passed out guy” in the after hours of his day. And he most definitely wouldn’t have thought he’d turn out to be this funny and cool to hang out with and not just some loser who smelled like an ashtray and probably had drugs and crushed beer cans lying around in his room.

 

Most importantly, he wasn’t prepared to see his _face_.

 

They were both exceeding their own private expectations they held to each other.

 

Liam was supposed to stay away from boys like this. Brutally beautiful and cut like a knife. But now he knew he was going to be doing the opposite because he wasn’t ever letting Zayn sleep through class ever again without saying hi.

 

“So, what brings you to the 9th level of hell?” He moved on as he prompted Liam to talk now, turning back again to watch him as he walked.

 

He gestured to a random window.

 

“I’ve never seen you anywhere over here before. Keg party doesn’t really seem like your speed.”

 

“Yeah, it’s not. But I actually live over here. I just never leave my room.” Liam laughed softly, looking down at his shoes as he shrugged.

 

Zayn waited for him to go on even though Liam didn’t really know what to say.

 

“I…” He hesitated to say the truth of why he came. But, he couldn’t think of a good lie.

 

“I always hear parties happening, through the walls of my place,” He gestured vaguely in the direction of Mac.

 

It sounds just like this in his building. Bass thumping distantly from somewhere too cool for him to be welcome at. He almost laughed at that pathetic thought.

 

“I always tell myself I should go out and meet people cause I don’t really know anyone here my own age but pretentious art students I don’t fit in with. It’s kind of dumb being alone in a big city like this. But, I never do cause... well, I wouldn’t _know_ anyone. No one invites me anywhere... which is just an excuse. I guess I sort of talk myself out of being social. It’s so easy to just sit comfortably at home, drinking your own drinks and listening to your own music.” He chuckles to himself.

 

Zayn tilted his head, listening intently as he put his hands in his pockets.

 

"What's your drink?" He asked.

 

Liam told him Disaronno on ice or any blended flavour of red wine. Not to his surprise, Zayn's was a Cosmo without the fruit - which is just a vague and unclear way of saying vodka straight up. 

 

One thing that wasn't unclear about Zayn was his eyes.

 

His attention was completely focused on Liam. Every time he spoke, he watched his mouth and it almost made him uncomfortable how he never looked away from Liam. Not once, maybe even since they left the kitchen. Self-consciously, Liam didn't look him in the face, fidgetting with his shirt or focusing on the bricks along the wall.

 

Being paid attention to was weird for him. Direct eye contact, too personal. Kind of like when someone touches you when you least expect it and you’re startled just because someone is suddenly there, _feeling_ you.

 

Their privacy from the rest of the world suddenly startled him, being felt by Zayn up here on a roof.

 

Sure, Liam was the only other person here with Zayn. So that automatically made him the only other point of focus. But when you’re used to being ignored, alone or falling in the background of everything, suddenly being pushed to the centre stage threw him off from just hearing his own undistributed voice.

 

There was no frat party surrounding them. No mannequin shaped models hanging around or in the way distractingly and no loud noise aside from the distant echo of city life, traffic and a few parties happening somewhere they weren’t.

 

Liam’s voice was loud and clear and someone wanted to hear what he had to say.

 

After talking about how much he gets drunk alone Zayn’s brows rose, the gesture telling Liam to go on after he’d paused several times like he forgot his lines.

 

“I guess I was just tired of hanging out on my own.” He admitted.

 

It was totally honest.

 

Being in his empty room constantly since his roommate had died was starting to get depressing. Not really _died_. But the ghost of him was always there so it felt that way.

 

He made sure he didn’t say any of that last part out loud.

 

Zayn was now frowning a little while Liam rushed to continue so his anxious-nature wouldn’t sound completely depressing.

 

“I saw this flyer about a mixer with 80 kegs. It seemed like it’d be a good time.”

 

He shook his head at Zayn.

 

“I ought to sue for false advertisement.”

 

“Got a good lawyer?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then you oughta not bother. Macgyver's control half of Brooklyn. His father’s been threatenin’ to sue me since I was 8 after Randy’s little sister got sick at my birthday party. I’ll probably have a notice in my mail t’morrow.”

 

Liam snorted down again, shaking his head at Zayn.

 

“You know, you got yourself in a funny little loop there. The desire to leave your room to meet people outside of it but, not leavin’ your room just cause you don’t know anybody.” He said, addressing what Liam told him.

 

“Yeah, I’m a self-contradiction.” Liam agreed.

 

“But there's nothing wrong with being alone. Get to know yourself.” Zayn shrugged.

 

"Well, I think it's beyond time I get to know someone else. I know myself well enough to be sick of being alone."

 

“Your proximity to people doesn’t make that much of a difference.”

 

Liam's eyes narrowed, a little surprised.

 

“Yeah?” he tilted his head.

 

That seemed oddly wise coming from him, like he’d just read something out of a self-help book he published.

 

Liam will admit that people with not-so-posh accents didn’t strike him as the most intelligent at first listen so he tended to tune out their voices almost immediately but, that was just him being judgmental.

 

Zayn gave a small nod as he looked over the edge thoughtfully.

 

“It’s a city of strangers, you know.” He shrugged again. “People pass each other in a crowded street and don’t even glance twice. One night stands you never see again. Meet at parties through friends of friends, hang out once and never meet again. Ignore each other in class and right in each other’s faces….”

 

Liam closed his eyed with a grin as that one sounded a bit accusatory.

 

He still wasn’t over Zayn thinking he was the one being ignored down there.

 

Zayn snorted to himself at a private thought as he shook his head.

 

“Just a bunch of strangers crammed onto the same island. Nobody knows anyone. We're all alone.”

 

His voice sounded really low just then, like a beatnik from the 50s reading poetry. Liam felt like he was talking to an older guy giving him wisedom. He could probably recite the alphabet and make it sound intensely profound.

 

Liam watched him staring out over the edge, wondering if someone like Zayn ever felt alone.

 

“You know, you’re voice changes tone a lot,” Liam said then,

 

“Can I ask if you really talk like that?”

 

Being a mutant for finding details, Liam got the feeling Zayn was stifling the way he really talked like one of those method actors who was always in character or constantly doing an impression of someone. He could tell just from looking at the way his lips moved that he wasn’t naturally posh but the code-switching made it hard to tell.

 

Zayn turned forward to kick his board ahead of them and put his hand in his pocket to reach for his lighter again, trying to rekindle a new cigarette since the last one had fallen out of his mouth after Liam’s brief freak out.

 

 _‘Smokers.’_ Liam thought. _‘What a disgusting habit.’_

 

He hadn’t smoked in over 3 years. But he remembered always wanting to look cool which turned into always needing to do something with his hands even when he wasn’t trying to look cool.

 

He always thought you could instantly tell who cared about their health and respected themselves by what they put into their body. Asking them if they smoked and what they ate was the easiest way to the answer.

 

Zayn’s words came out muffled when he talked with his lips holding his cigarette as sparks flicked sporadically behind his cupped hand.

 

_“Liam Payne, 'm gonna tell you about livin’ in New York.”_

 

Liam held up his hand on the other side to help him out until it finally lit and he nodded a thanks as he continued to speak, blowing out smoke quickly before taking a long drag.

 

“Where I grew up, my neighbours were from the islands. Puerto Ricans and Caribbeans. That neighbourhood isn't gentrified yet like most of Brooklyn. The grocer I've visited since I was a kid was Korean. The super of the apartment I currently live in is Italian. The doorman of that place Russian. My deli man is Israeli. My laundry guy on 78th is Chinese. The best bartender around here is Irish. The best diner next to him is full of Greeks. The watchseller on the corner of my old neighbourhood in Senegalese. My newsstand guy around the block is Indian. My last cabbie was Pakistani. My go-to falafel guy is Egyptian. My girlfriend is Palestinian and the guy who I’ve never heard speak in my 8am film class is from London. I don’t know anyone with the same accent or where mine came from.”

 

A trail of smoke drifted from his nose twisting around like a lost soul just escaped his body.

 

“Live in a melted pot and you hear a lot of interesting voices.”

 

That was somehow the most detailed and vague answer he could give. He managed not to say a lot about his own background. But he made perfect sense the same way Leigh-Anne did. About how mixed they were.

 

Only one word really stuck in Liam’s mind.

 

Girlfriend.

 

 _Shit_.

 

“Can I have a smoke?” Liam asked, distracting himself from his internal irritation.

 

He suddenly needed a cigarette. Probably wouldn’t do any good mixing with what’s in his stomach but, he didn’t really give a shit right now.

 

Zayn gave him a strange look as he handed him the last one from his pack.

 

“Are you okay…?”

 

Was he okay?

 

As reached for cancer and lied as he told Zayn he was fine, he noticed how clenched his jaw had become. He felt like hang-gliding off this building. Instead, he brought the flask back up to his lips.

 

The more he drank, the more he relaxed.

 

“Do your parents know you smoke and drink?” Zayn continued to give him his annoying side-eye, probably because of how Liam had begun sucking down the flask like a thirsty fish.

 

That made Liam chuckle as he wiped his mouth and let Zayn give him a light, rolling his eyes afterwards.

 

 _“You think I'm a goody two shoes or whatever the hell you call it?”_ He started laughing then, that uncontrollable bubbling that didn’t know how to react to panic or nerves.

 

He was feeling way looser around the edges than before so the nerves were dying off. Like if he shook hard enough, the shape of him would collapse into a poof of smoke. He wanted to do that right now. Dissolve until he couldn’t feel any of the edges anymore.

 

He was starting to realise why Zayn offered him immortality for his flask. The more he drank the poison, the less he felt like dying. It wasn't just his tolerance building up. He couldn't feel his legs on the ground because he was floating.

 

He stumbled a little and realised he in fact wasn't floating. But Zayn caught him upright. Even still, he pushed him off this time keeping himself steady with his hand along the brick wall.

 

Was it safe to be this uncoordinated on top of building with someone equally uncoordinated? 

 

He didn't care. Zayn wasn't even that uncoordinated, which wasn't surprising. It obviously took a hell of a lot more than the average person to actually get him on a danger level of intoxicated.

 

Zayn frowned a little when Liam pushed himself along without his help.

 

He couldn’t look him in the face anymore. So he stared at the sky, it’s inky void looking like something he could jump into right now and fly around in.

 

_'Girlfriend. He has a girlfriend. Cool.’_

 

_So what the fuck?_

 

Were they not exchanging numbers not too long ago or was that just Zayn smooth talking smoke?

 

Things seemed to be going a lot better when he was drinking so, he kept swallowing despite the feeling in his legs going in and out.

 

“’m not as innocent as you think--” He hiccuped.

 

“Don't lie.” Zayn said. “This is the most scandalous thing you've done in your life and I'm the coolest guy you've ever met. Admit it.”

 

This was most certainly _not_ the most scandalous thing Liam had ever done.

 

Liam laughed louder than he needed to as he they rounded another sharp corner after passing by a hundred windows neither of them looked into.

 

“You think you know me?”

 

“I think I do.”

 

“You don’t.”

 

Zayn smirked at him with narrow eyes. His face was too close to Liam's.

 

He could probably see all over Liam that he was a dumb yuppie who had this luxurious life with an upper-class background that never had a single worry in life.

 

"You probably know everything about fine arts and style with all your sociable tastes." He starting reading Liam like a book as he rolled his eyes forward.

 

"Enjoy fine dining, like drinking wine with gourmet meals and washing it down with Italian liqueurs. Maybe speak French or some fancy, sophisticated language. Pay close attention to detail right down from your shiny white shoes that you'll probably never wear again to the way you smell like Chanel and quiff your sandy hair to the right and never the left. Well-educated... that kind of deal."

 

Okay so maybe he did. For someone who never heard him talk, he paid way more attention to Liam in class than he'd ever would have fucking guessed.

 

It was starting to piss Liam off. Everything about Zayn was starting to piss him off now.

 

He felt like proving him wrong even if he was completely right.

 

He bumped into Zayn's side a little as they were walking before he stopped to look at Zayn with his lips held in. He moved his hands behind his back without Zayn noticing.

 

Zayn looked back at Liam with raised brows.

 

“What?”

 

“I've got a pretty nice watch too, huh?”

 

He nodded down to his wrist which had been bare a few seconds ago and Zayn stopped to look down at Liam’s arm with a blank face.

 

He must not have noticed how close they were standing.

 

He took a few steps back and held his chin to think real hard about what he was looking at as he stared for a few seconds.

 

“Is that my watch on your wrist?” He asked slowly.

  
  
“That's your watch on my wrist.” Liam nodded.

 

“How… _the fuck…_ did you do that?!?”

 

“Every time I bump into you, I steal something.”

 

Zayn laughed as Liam unclipped his watch and tossed it for him to catch against his chest.

 

He lost his third and last cigarette of the night. His pack was empty now.

 

Liam could tell from the unsure look on his face that he was trying to figure out if Liam was bluffing or not. He didn’t give Liam the satisfaction of checking to see if his wallet was still in his right front pocket.

 

Liam told him that was his super-power.

 

“So what, you some kinda ninja thief?”

 

“No. I’m just really good at doing things without getting caught.”

 

“Like a ninja thief.”

 

Liam laughed.

 

“More like partially invisible.”

 

He told him that the rest of the world was so unobservant that he could probably slip into a bank vault without anyone noticing.

 

“Then why are you an art major?”

 

He had no clue how Zayn could know that. Unless he's asked someone about Liam, which would be silly.

 

There was no way Zayn has been nervous to talk to Liam sitting 1 foot away from him on his own.

 

“Sounds like you do better living a life of crime. Why not put your powers to use and be like a secret agent or a spy?”

 

He adored how completely serious Zayn asked this. As if they really were villains discussing their superpowers on a fire escape, trading stories about what they did with their secret identities.

 

“Well for one, I don’t like being in danger.”

 

“I sure can’t tell if you're still hanging out with me.”

 

Liam ignored his smirk as he went on, grinning with his eyes squeezed closed.

 

“ _Two_ , I do genuinely love everything about art and design. I mean, I’m not an artist myself but I like looking for the little details in paintings, hanging them up and decorating a room with it. You can make a living doing that, you know.”

 

“Is that why you’re in New York?”

 

It seemed like he was trying to figure Liam out so, he didn't know everything, which was a relief. It would've been getting into stalker territory if he already knew why, considering Liam has never divulged this much information about himself to anyone since moving here.

 

Liam just answered question after question.

 

He told Zayn he wasn't here to fall in love or live a luxurious life in an expensive loft. He got an internship with this French-born artist that owned 2 galleries. One in London, one in Brooklyn - his main base.

 

"Even though I'm kind of an unpaid assistant at the moment, I love every second of it. I take a lot of his classes about the business."

 

“Art agent in the making, huh.” Zayn was reassessing Liam now.

 

“Alright. I may have misjudged you, pick-pocket.”

 

“You may have.” Liam nodded, blowing out smoke and letting Zayn take a drag too.

 

“But I think you're right. I've never met a boy like you. No one’s probably ever met anyone like you.”

 

He had no idea why he said it. It was so uncensored, even Zayn seemed mildly taken aback by it.

 

“Thank you?” He said with uncertainty as he squinted, unsure if that was a good or bad thing just the same as Liam was.

 

"No really," Liam laughed. "You crash parties and no one can stop you cause you just give everyone that  _look_ with the extra long eye contact and everything turns to dust. You keep your chin up when you speak and look everyone in the eyes. I've never felt confidence like that before. Like really _felt_ it. Like it shines out of your eyes from the inside out." Liam shook his head as he forgot who he was talking to, raving about Zayn like it wasn't Zayn.

 

"I've never seen eyes like yours. They look like you came, saw and _d_ _estroyed_ everything."

 

After all his thoughts jumped out of his head, he looked at the sky in front of him.

 

"You're fearless." He finished. "I wish I was like you."

 

When he finally looked at Zayn again, he was staring at him with wide eyes and the sight of it almost made him laugh. Like he was in shock.

 

Zayn blinked at him only once before he looked ahead, still wearing his look of shock.

 

He didn't say anything at all, walking speechless in silence that sounded strange coming from him. 

 

“My parents don’t care.” Liam nodded towards the flask he was still drinking from.

 

He turned into chatty Cathy, unable to shut up like Zayn’s side effects to getting drunk were now Liam’s as their roles had totally reversed.

 

“They don’t care about the right things."  _Hiccup,_ "They let me smoke and drink on vacations in foreign countries all the time.”

 

He told Zayn he’d started smoking after a holiday in the _Côte d'Azur_ the summer he turned 14 when he spent 2 months drinking glasses of wine with dinner and smoking Gauloises with French kids in his beach house. It was the skinniest he'd ever been and the most friends he'd ever had but, it didn't last long because he got sent to this elite boarding school in Sweden for 4 years afterwards, 2 months after they came home.

 

"I haven't even seen my parents for longer than a weekend since then." 

 

It wasn't until he'd said that out loud had he thought about it for longer than 2 seconds. The look Zayn gave him in response made him realise how bizarre it all was compared to normal people. 

 

Zayn's guess about his affluent background was 1000% accurate. He was an only child, raised to be sociable only for things like dinner parties and educated by only the best. He could speak more than 2 languages almost fluently. The diet he was accustomed to cost a fortune. And he tried not to be a snobby label whore but, old habits died hard.

 

Everything except for the assumption that he had normal parents who cared about their kid's health and well-being.

 

He had the kind of parents who didn't raise their kid themselves but sent him all over to different places so something else in the world would.

 

“It was supposed to teach me independence and confidence but all I learned how to do there was--”

 

He abruptly cut himself off before he could say,  _All I learned how to do was give head._

 

“Was what?” Zayn squinted.

 

“Act like an adult.”

 

Liam knew that was a total contradiction but, it was also true.

 

“Same here.” Zayn looked ahead again. He was way less chatty than before and he wasn't looking Liam in the face as much either which kind of made Liam miss having his full attention.

 

“I mean, no. Not same here because _what the fuck?!?_ But, same.”

 

Liam laughed at his blown away face.

 

Zayn's parents didn't raise him either. New York did.

 

"Parents who don't protect their kid are the scum of Earth."

 

"What makes you think I needed protecting?"

 

"You were smoking before you even hit puberty!"

 

“Everyone smokes in France. Even the children.”

 

Zayn laughed at that.

 

The truth was, back then he really did. He felt like if they knew each other back then, Zayn would've protected him then too.

 

Apparently, they were both 14 when they started acting like adults. People say that whatever happens to a boy when he’s 14 can mark him for life. That notion reigned true for the both of them.

 

“So the question becomes: what _aren’t_ you good at?” He said with a mystical voice.

 

They were sharing their cigarette now. At this point, they weren’t really going anywhere. It was possible they’d rounded the building more than once. This floor was attached to the roof so the balcony circled the top of the whole building.

 

Liam thought about that for a few seconds.

 

“Making friends… being alone… and… lying.”

 

All 3 honest answers. A lot of things changed when he was 14. Sometimes, he still felt like that little boy. He ended up telling Zayn that too.

 

“Your turn.”

 

Zayn took the same amount of time that Liam did.

 

“ _Keeping_ friends… _staying_ alone… and telling the truth.”

 

Liam laughed and bumped his side with rolled eyes.

 

“You can’t just re-write my answers!”

 

“Alright, alright.” Zayn smiled as he squinted up at the sky.

 

“... nothing.”

 

He already knew Zayn was going to say that. There wasn’t a more perfect thing he could’ve said but that he was perfect.

 

“Okay, _ll Divino.”_

 

“Did you just call me _Il Diablo?”_ He said it in Spanish, his accent  _perfect,_ easily like someone straight from Spain as he looked at Liam, gesturing to himself.

 

“You think I’m actually the devil?”

 

“No!” Liam laughed into his hands.

 

“I said _Il DiVINO_ which is the complete opposite. The guy I work for, that’s his stage name. It means ‘The Divine One’.”

 

“Well he sounds like a cocky one.”

 

“That's what everyone called Michelangelo.”

 

“Why?” Zayn’s eyes flitted over Liam’s lips and nose with eye contact that sent chills down his spine.

 

It occurred to him again how close they kept getting. There was so much space around them but it seemed like they could only gravitate towards the warmest thing. Zayn noticed Liam noticing and he backed up a little as he blinked to the side.

 

“Sorry, I’m all into you, asking a million questions.” He laughed nervously. “I don't know shit about art.”

 

He kept his eyes to the grate below again.

 

"Dunno how to hide my eyes."

 

It was then Liam realised what he told him about how intense his eyes were wasn't reading as a good thing to Zayn.

 

Liam had goosebumps all over his body, shivering again even though he didn't feel very cold. He didn't know if it was a good thing either. Someone having this much affect on him just from a look was frightening.

  
  
“No, it's okay. Umm…” Liam closed his eyes as he swallowed, trying to focus on what he was saying.

 

“They called him that because he was talented at just about everything he did. He mastered marble, sculpting, painting - you name it. You've probably seen the statue of David and Sistine Chapel, yeah?”

 

Zayn nodded, ever with his eyes that wouldn't let him hide, zeroed in on Liam like he was soaking in every word.

 

Liam was starting to like being the only available point of focus, like there was a spotlight pointed at him. Even if his cheeks were on fire.

  
  
“Right. Well, he did that all by himself. And anyway, the guy I like, Divino, he's no Michelangelo but he’s really skilled at drawing and design. Even with clothing. But, I love his paintings. He's always got stuff in the Met art museum. He does a lot of contemporary pop art, like Andy Warhol mixed with renaissance. There’s this whole trend he started called “anachronistic”, when you take something old and put a modern twist on it. Like a Mona Lisa holding an iphone. But his style is intergalactic. Like chariots in stars and space… I dunno it’s kind of weird. But every single one I see, I just want to step into it and fly around. He'd probably paint something just like this.” Liam gestured to the full moon in front of them, growing brighter over river.

 

He felt like he was raving entirely too much about his mentor now and boring Zayn.

 

He’d been looking forward again for a while now with his lips pursed.

 

“Sounds like an _interesting_ guy.” He finally said.

 

Liam looked over at him.

 

“I… got an extra ticket to his exhibition if you wanna see it next week. I think you'd like it.”

 

“Is it for someone else?”

 

Liam didn’t understand what he meant.

 

“Someone else...?”

 

“The ticket. Do you, like, got a…” He trailed off.

 

Liam’s eyes opened wide, realising what he was asking.

 

"Oh! _No no,”_ He shook his head quickly. “Not at all.”

 

He couldn’t bring out the words _I’m single_. Uttering that phrase sometimes lands you in a horrible relationship, like hexing yourself.

 

Zayn smiled. “Then why do you have an extra ticket to something like that?”

 

As he ran the conversation back in his head, it hit Liam that it unintentionally came out as if he'd just asked Zayn out on a date to an art museum that he hadn't said yes or no to. He was too mellowed out to panic too hard about this so he just laughed with his hands in his pockets like Zayn's.

 

All he could do was tell the truth right now.

 

“I always buy multiple tickets, just in case I invite someone. There's so much to do. Why wouldn't you want to share the experience with someone? Make memories."

 

"I agree."  
  
  
  
It felt like they'd been talking up there for hours and hours. And it was so easy. Just like talking to someone he’d known for years.

 

The sun should've been coming up. But, he noticed Zayn's watch was broken and Liam's phone was dead. Even then, he had no desire to look at the time.

  
  
"How is it still night?" Liam snorted as they leaned his arms over the end of the railing like Zayn.

 

"I swear there was a full moon at the beginning of the month already. I feel like we’ve been up here forever and it’s still dark.”

  
  
"Didn't you know?" Zayn took a drink from his flask as he stared at the blank canvas of the sky.

  
  
"It's a blue moon tonight. Time slowed down."

 

“That’s not how time works, Zayn.”

 

“That’s how it works at night, Liam.”

 

They both snorted when Liam bumped his shoulder.

 

“More like in dreams.”

 

Zayn nodded slowly as they both watched the moons freckled face in the dark.

 

“Yeah…. like a dream.”

 

It was like that was where they really knew each other from.

 

Everything was becoming so familiar again for an entirely different reason, more than just from being with the guy in his class. Like they’d done this a million times before. It reminded him of walking with someone through a dream. Comfortable, homely atmosphere. Just as comfortable as he felt when he was alone at home.

 

He knew Zayn felt it too. Some kind of inextricable link they could feel being near each other that felt alone but didn't want to be surrounded by a billion strangers either.

 

He wondered if that’s why he brought him up here, away from everyone else.

 

Totally on cue, [ _Dreams_ ](https://jaylaisdreaming.tumblr.com/post/168670955342/rhiaannon-dreams-by-fleetwood-mac-playing-from) began beating from the party behind them like a heartbeat throbbing in his chest.

 

He wondered if Zayn brought other people he met at parties up to rooftops to look at the moon and share stories with, promising they’ll hang out again just to say it, only to never see them ever again once they went their separate ways. Liam didn’t want this to end like that. Even if he had Liam’s number. It didn’t feel substantial.

 

He wanted more than to just be alone with him and no one else. He felt like at home with him, and that was exactly where he wanted to be.  
  
  
  
He kept staring at Zayn’s Adam's apple bobbing with each sip and his lips around it, the way they sucked in and smoothed his tongue between them to lick around slowly for moisture as he traced the stubble sprinkled down his neck with his middle knuckle.

 

His movements were so sensual. It may as well have been happening in slow motion.

 

All Liam could think was how thirsty he was and how he’d die to do that to him. Taste his lips to quench this dryness in his mouth. Kiss him in front of the moon until it disappeared. Fall into him and let their blue, moonlit skin do all the talking.

 

But then he thought about Zayn’s girlfriend. How someone else got to be with him all the time and touch him whenever she wanted, wherever she wanted. See his whole body. Make his heart race and make him moan and cum.

 

A tinge of jealousy tightened in his throat from all those ridiculous impulses he knew he’d never in a million years act on, feeling just as blue as the moon for his cowardice to touch an unreachable boy.

 

He knew Zayn could feel him staring from the way his eyes darted over beside him from the side of his eye before looking ahead again so Liam stopped watching him, probably creeping Zayn out.

 

Zayn was biting in his lips as he swallowed. Liam wondered what he was thinking about. Or if he was just listening to the music and thinking about someone else he'd rather be up here with.

 

“Why is it called a blue moon?” Liam squinted. “It doesn’t look blue at all.”

 

Zayn finally let out a burst of laughter as a snort rattled out of his nose, spitting over the rail. Liam didn’t understand what was so funny as Zayn was holding his wrist to his nose as he wiped under it.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing.” Zayn shook his head with that smirk on his face again, like he knew something Liam didn’t.

 

“It doesn’t mean it’s actually blue. A blue moon is the second full moon in one month. Very rare.”

 

“What’s it mean?”

 

“Depends on how you look at that.” Zayn tilted his head from side to side.

 

“In songs and literature, it means lost love and melancholy. Listen hard enough and you’ll hear the sound of his loneliness.”

 

Liam looked at him again.

 

"I thought the moon was a girl?"

 

"Blue moon's a boy. Otherwise, it'd be pink."

 

“Are you really one of those people who hoard random facts you’ve got on hand at all times?” 

  
  
“Nah…” Zayn tilted his head again.

 

“My girlfriend left me on a blue moon.”

 

It stunned Liam.

 

He’d said it so casual in the middle of the conversation. The way he went on almost made Liam think he hadn’t said it at all. But he knew he did. Especially with what Zayn said next.

 

“I remember because it was September.” He went on.

 

“Saw it on the 1st. Then I saw it again 29 days later after she left town to be one of them big stars over there.” He gestured across the river to the city Liam hadn’t even noticed right in front of them.

 

It was glowing just a bright as the moon was, twinkling lights something to gawk at in awe. But all Liam paid any attention to anymore was Zayn and his low voice.

 

“Lose someone on a blue moon, call it a lunar heartbreak.”

 

Liam had to hold in his triumphant scream of,

 

_'His girlfriend left him! Thank FUCK!'_

 

That might’ve come off a bit insensitive. He didn't know or care why Zayn told him that. Maybe he was trying to tell Liam he was single too.

 

“What do you call it when you _find_ someone on a blue moon?”

 

Zayn looked back at him with his long lashes casting that wide-eyed doe look on his face. He was _right next to his lips_ and his eyes focused right on Liam’s mouth when he asked.

 

_"Rare.”_

  
  
“Yeah?”

 

_“Yeah.”_

 

This moment passed between them, staring at each other in silence.

 

_'He wants you to kiss him. Kiss him!'_

 

They were right there, so into each other and comfortable. Everything was perfect and right.

 

He could feel all the nerves coiling up inside him. It felt like he'd implode.  
  
  
  
“Why’d she leave you?”

 

 _'Jesus fucking Christ Liam, just jump overboard already.'_  
  
  
  
He hadn't known he was holding his breath until after he'd got the question out.

 

Zayn stilled as his eyes flicked back up to Liam’s with the caged look of being thrown off again.

 

He blinked once to the side for a moment then looked away, his brows knit together a little.  
  
  
  
Liam was squeezing his eyes hard and hit his palm to his forehead behind Zayn's head to cringe at himself.  
  
  
_  
__'Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!'_

 

His ability to ruin such a perfect moment was confounding.

  
  
Zayn thought about it seriously, concentration weaved into his eyes as he stared at the sky.  
  
  
  
“Cause my soul is dead. And I’m not good controlling myself.”

 

He didn’t know what that meant. He didn't know what any of this meant right now.

 

 _Players only love you when they're playing_ echoed out as dreams was fading away and Liam knew that was why he didn't kiss him.

 

Maybe that was why Liam felt so nervous to be close to him and uncomfortable with the attention they gave each other. This would never play out well.

 

“Your watch is broken, by the way.” He absolutely had to move on from this conversation.

 

He wanted to run away, dive back into a crowd and vanish into it. Being so close to Zayn terrified him. Like if he took another step, he'd fall right off this roof.

 

 _'You're in orbit Liam,'_ He thought to himself.  _'You can't fall.'_

 

Zayn glanced down at his watch dangling over the rail and nodded like he already knew that.

 

“This watch stopped working in 1964.”

 

“What do you mean it stopped working in 1964?”

 

“It stopped working in 1964.” Zayn repeated.

 

Liam hiccuped and stumbled over a pocket of air when he started walking again, almost  _running._  He needed to get some space between them.

 

He didn’t push Zayn’s arm off when he caught him from behind, pulling the back of Liam’s shirt before he got too far ahead so he’d stay next to Zayn and not fall over the edge of the building.

 

He let Zayn keep his arm around his waist this time since, holding Liam's stomach since he didn’t know how to walk. Zayn took his flask from Liam’s other hand that was dangling over his shoulder and slid it back into his pocket then slipped his hand over Liam’s. Into Liam's fingers.

 

Okay. They were holding hands. This is fine.

 

He wanted to tell Zayn he looked damn good for his age if he’s really had that watch for half a century.

 

“Thanks.” Zayn nodded with a frown when Liam didn’t retain his thought.

 

“What’s with the broken watch?” Liam squinted at it over his wrist.

 

“It’s a nice watch, why don’t you fix it?”

 

“I don't wear this on my wrist to look cool and in style. I’ve had it since I was 14. My granddad gave it to me the night he died.”

 

Silence fell over Liam for about 5 seconds before he started asking unfiltered questions again.

 

Zayn told him he died from alcohol poisoning when he asked.

 

“Why'd he wear a broken watch?”

 

“It was his reminder. Time's the only thing he had. Told me not to waste it bein' alone. He was from Queens so he was kinda coockey in the head."

 

Zayn let go of Liam's hand to make the crazy person gesture with his index finger circling around his ear.

 

"It always reminds me of him.”

 

Zayn snorted at his own words, rubbing the back of his neck like he was embarrassed by the fact that he’d said that. Liam held in his lips curled into a smile, which made Zayn laugh even more, covering his eyes.

 

“I know, it's real corny.”

 

“No it's not.” Liam shook his head. “That's really special. I wish I had a broken clock. Maybe it’d remind me to stop wasting time too.”

 

“What are you wasting time doin'?”

 

“Fucking around with the wrong guys.”

 

He meant to say _people_ but the word slipped along with a nasty swear.

 

In any other circumstance, Liam would’ve been mortified that he’d just outed himself. But it was a little obvious that Zayn already knew like everyone else always did.

 

The conversation continued, completely casual like what Liam said didn’t matter at all.

 

“What kind of guys?”

 

“The kind that are pistols."

 

He told Zayn boys were like different kinds of guns and he always fell for the ones without the safety on. Ones he knew would hurt him tremendously.

 

What he _wanted_ to tell Zayn was they were boys like _him_. The kind that came with warnings that he needed to stay away from.

 

Falling for someone like him was like falling in front of a pistol, aimed at his head with a finger on the trigger.

 

Zayn's expression was hard to read. He could tell he was listening but he would've loved to hear what he was thinking.

 

When Liam was done, he almost thought he'd said way too much. But Zayn shook his head, looking him dead in the eye as he said,

 

“You don't even know me.”

 

Neither of them laughed. It wasn't accusatory or defensive. It was just the truth of everything. Liam didn't. So why was he so afraid?

 

They'd stopped walking by now. 

 

Liam didn’t understand his throat wouldn’t stop burning since it wasn’t full of vodka right now. It was all swirling in his stomach and around his head.

 

"I need you to stop being afraid of me. I'm not a pistol."

 

Liam just nodded, his whole body in  _flames_ and his heart racing as Zayn had Liam's back plastered to the wall between his legs. His gaze was so sincere, looking between Liam's eyes like he was searching for something. Maybe something he lost, or a sign that Liam didn't see someone he should be afraid of. Or maybe he was just admiring Liam's eyes.

 

His hand at Liam's waist touched the side of his hip where the skin was vulnerably peaking out under his shirt, his thumb brushing gently against his bare skin and leaving his print there.

 

Everything was blurring together, all the lines that were usually drawn out to make the world around them swirling around like they were inside a Van Gogh painting.

 

He didn't know what to focus on anymore. The words coming out of Zayn's beautiful mouth or the way he looked at Liam or  _his hand on his body-_

 

_"Liam can I-"_

 

_"Okay."_

 

He didn't even let him finish before their lips were swirling, and Liam's body _soared_.

 

He didn't know who kissed who. Their lips were fast, then slow, then fast again and Liam exploded into a million different points of light as he returned it with all the passion he'd said he wouldn't, gripping Zayn's shoulders the more he leaned into Liam, catching Zayn's lips each time he was dipping them down to catch every taste of Liam's juicy bottom lip.

 

He could’ve easily been floating in space, just like the moon. He wasn't afraid to orbit anymore. Stars and moonlight and chariots in space didn't have to surround him.

 

All he had was Zayn and there wasn't anything else he wanted to be wrapped in.

 

They were leaning against a window pane and his hands were both sliding down and holding Zayn’s arms, holding still there until Zayn's one arm slung around Liam's neck as his head tilted to the right and his tongue smoothed over Liam's with relaxed ease, like it was the most comfortable thing in the universe.

 

Something sweet was drumming against Liam’s body. It felt like a heartbeat. The kind of beat that was full of music.

 

 _“You have really delicious lips.”_ He mumbled into between their mouths. He tasted like raspberries, oddly enough.

 

“You taste like a cigarette.” Zayn pulled back with a smile as he looked him over tenderly and wiped the gloss off his chin while taking a few steps back, pulling Liam with him as he kissed him again and again, going over to the part of railing that was opened and illuminated with cool, lucent moonlight so they could see each other outside of the concealing shadow.

 

See the lips they were kissing and the person who invited them to be kissed.

 

He wasn't afraid of Zayn's eyes anymore, mostly because his eyes were closed.

 

He didn't even have to touch him as he cupped Liam's chin. All he had to do was give him that look and he had him.

 

It looked like they were standing at an altar, waiting to go up the latter that connected Earth to heaven. He felt so much at once and they all contradicted each other wonderfully. Like he wanted to jump off the building but happily. It reminded him of when he was younger but also made him feel some kind of promise of the future.

 

_“I could kill you right now, you know."_

 

Liam hummed against his lips and kept his eyes closed as he listened to the traffic racing around 10 stories below them and the overlapping chatter from the party that was happening behind the window.

 

“Go ahead.” He opened his eyes again.

 

Zayn thought about it for a moment.

 

_"Nah... I think I'll do it tomorrow."_

 

He really liked being promised tomorrow. Until he made the mistake of looking towards the edge he hadn’t even seen them approach.

 

Tomorrow's promise was snatched back as Liam’s life flashed in his eyes again.

 

“ZEE!”

 

His hands sprung into action and grabbed him tight, horrified by the way it looked like he was about to walk right off and take Liam with him if he tried to stop Zayn.

 

He got a glimpse at the drop they were at and regret sunk itself deep into his every vein.

 

His stomach twisted horribly at the sight of how high up in the air they were. 10 stories suddenly felt like a thousand, nothing separating them from life and death by their own will.

  
  
“Dude, _chill out_.” Zayn pat his stomach as his arms caged around Liam's body again. "You're good, I got you."

 

He didn't care how secure it felt anymore. They were dancing along a line that really would kill them both.

 

_"We have to get down--"_

 

"Thought you wanted to be fearless, London?" He smiled at Liam's panic.

 

"I just wanted you to see the city and the bridge. Every time I see it, we feel in sync."

 

He lifted Liam's chin up with his finger, away from looking down to look up at him instead. Liam's heart stopped when he saw him, lit up and dazzling proudly.

 

_"Wow..."_

 

The view of him in the light took his breath away. Manhattan did too. He told Liam everything about his other lover, across the river. The city that raised him.

 

Behind them through a window into a party, Jade squinted out at the balcony from across the room.

 

"Hey guys... I've got a question." She said, absently tapping Harry's shoulder.

 

"Go on."

 

"So... is Zayn like... bi or something?"

 

 _"What?!?"_ Harry snorted loudly from where he was leaning down, on the phone recording Leigh-Anne.

 

 _"Bilingual? Si!"_ She answered happily.

 

She was slowly dipping her ass back into Perrie's front as she held the side's of Leigh's hips, swivelling her cheeks from side to side provocatively between Perrie's legs as she arched her back and dipped repeatedly like a wave with her hands on her knees and laughing away in front of them, both the girls electric in the red glow of the fluorescent lighting.

 

"No," Jade rolled her eyes.  _"Bisexual."_

 

"Are you fucking serious?" Jesy laughed from where she's hanging on Harry's other side. "I will kill over and die the second I see Zayn Malik on another guys dick. His senior quote was literally _God is a women and I will die in her pussy._ And guess who didn't get to walk with his class?"

 

Jade pointed towards the window, total confusion all over her face.

 

"Then who's that Liam's with outside?"

 

Everyone's gaze followed until they landed on the couple making out on the fire escape. 

 

"Oh my-- oh my _GOD!"_ Leigh-Anne almost screamed when she saw, standing up straight and sprinting over to the window, pushing everyone out of the way with Perrie in her hand, Harry and the rest of the girls behind them, all equally in shock.

 

They were suddenly crowding over each other in the window, fighting to get a better view of watching Liam looking at the Brooklyn bridge, wrapped up in Zayn's arms with his head against his chest.

 

They were drinking and kissing in between sips, laughing into exposed throats outlined by the moon.

 

There was no mistakingthe amount of attention paid to each other's tongues. An orthodontist would be blushing. And Zayn's hands were making their way down Liam's behind until he actually picked him up so he'd sit on it in front of him with his back safely to the pole side between his legs as he stood over the rail.

 

Zayn pointed at something in the distance and said something that made Liam laugh into Zayn's neck as he kissed him more.

 

Zayn looked at him with this warm  _smile,_ like he was watching the sun set, his arms rested comfortably over Liam's thighs as they continued talking with Liam moving his fingers through the nape of his hair.

 

The way they looked at each other... it didn't even look like Zayn.

 

 _"Who's Liam?"_ Harry asked from underneath Perrie.

 

 _"The gay guy we met downstairs!"_ Jesy hissed from beside him,

 

 _"No I mean, who is he?"_ Harry clarified.  _"I thought you guys knew him."_

 

 _"No... at least us 4 don't. I don't think Zayn knows him either, he said he just moved here not even a month ago!"_  

 

_"Then what in the HELL is going on out there?!?"_

 

Leigh-Anne shook her head slowly with her mouth hung open.

 

_"I have... no idea."_

 

They were all suddenly whispering, like if they talked too loud they'd scare them away even though they didn't have eyes for anyone but each other.

 

No one else saw it. No one else saw the whole world shifting but the 5 of them.

 

 _"He was following him around all night and he kept asking me about him so I know he didn't know him."_ Perrie pointed out. _"We watched him fall in love with a boy downstairs and now he's gay, that's what's happening!"_

 

Perrie grinned, ecstatic about it all but Leigh-Anne shook her head somberly.

 

_"Zayn isn't bisexual."_

_"He sure doesn't seem straight."_ Jade commented.  _"He wouldn't even look at me downstairs. I kept having to strangle his attention from Liam--"_

 

_"Well, Liam is adorable. How can you blame him?"_

 

_"Yeah, because he saw someone that sucks dick and he wanted a quick nut."_

_"Don't be so cynical. We're not all motivated by our dicks."_ Harry gave them a man's opinion no one asked for.

 

_"Maybe he's experimenting. Unless they've really been out there this whole time... then they must be pretty into each other."_

_"If you think that then you don't know Zayn at all."_ Jesy shook her head. _"He's not into anyone for longer than 1 night that isn't Gigi. Especially when he's sober. He's a different person in the day time and he's going to hurt him."_

 

Harry didn't argue with that one because she was absolutely right.

 

But then again, he's never heard any guy talk back to Zayn like Liam did downstairs. Like he knew him already and met his match.

 

"Oh shut up Harry." Leigh rolled her eyes when Harry started talking about  _soulmates._

 

_"Zayn lost his soulmate ages ago."_

 

_"Yeah, well it looks like he found a new one."_

 

They couldn't keep their hands off one another, holding hands between their bodies and whispering in each other's ears, laughing and just having a good time. So close and comfortable in each other's company... Harry got some pretty amazing Kodak moments while everyone else were arguing about it, saying he was just drunk and being a dick or rebounding and just using Liam until they jumped when a knock on the window startled them.

 

Zayn was leaning down into the window, pointing at the top and mouthing for them to unlock it with Liam in his other hand behind him, looking back at the bridge and avoiding everyone's gaze.

 

Leigh-Anne unlocked the window slowly and they all backed out of the way for them to come inside, watching them all into each other's throats still as they waltzed through the room and into to first door the came across.

 

The girls were mostly screaming, Harry was watching the footage back he took in shock while behind that closet door, two planets were colliding.

 

 _“Where are you?”_ Liam whispered lightly as he closed the door behind him.

 

It was totally black in here. A hand flapped onto his face out of nowhere, almost smacking him in the cheek until he realised it was Zayn prodded his face blindly to find him.

 

His thumbs smoothed over his neck up to both his cheeks, holding Liam’s face gingerly like he had a heart in his hands.

 

 _“Right here.”_ His voice was closer than Liam expected for some reason.

 

He could suddenly feel his body and his breath, heightened awareness in the dark of every sign that there was another live person hear with him.

 

Sexual activity in a pitch black environment equaled peak and intense sensationalism. Sensing everywhere he was now felt like he was in touch with his soul. The way his heart pounded. His breath even. The way his hands were nice on Liam’s skin.

 

He kissed Liam in the dark once he finally found his lips and it felt electric.

 

They didn't have to say anything or say how he wanted him. He didn't have to pull for him to kiss him harder or pull him closer. He did it on his own. The gasps and flutters of breath grew the more heated it got. 

  
  
He was much more shy to kiss than Liam expected him to be, less forward than he’d been outside. Liam was on top now and leading the movement with Zayn's back pressed into the wall. But his hands weren't shy in the least.

 

They were all over Liam. Clumsily and shamelessly begging him to stay as close as possible and as less layers of clothes he’d let him go. 

 

 _"Can I tell you a secret?"_ Zayn whispered into his neck through kisses, pulling at Liam’s collar to axis the untouched skin.

 

He didn’t want one inch of his body to go untouched by Zayn’s lips.

 

Liam uttered something he meant to make sound like a yes but it came out in a whine as Zayn's lips nibbled on his ear, down Liam’s neck to his collarbone. His chest could barely contain his heart trying to jump out against Zayn’s, both of them thumping against each other.

 

That heartbeat was driving Liam mad.  

 

They were in a closet and this seemed like a great a place as any to get something you've been hiding off your chest at. But Zayn never got out whatever his secret was.

 

 _"I dunno what I'm doin’."_ He said instead.

 

He could feel Zayn's hand trying to grope his chest like he was looking for something that wasn't there and Liam then knew what he meant. It wasn’t that he didn't know what he was doing. He knew his secret.

 

He’d never been with another boy before.

 

Liam’s hand touched over Zayn’s.

 

_"Lower."_

 

Liam told him what he liked and Zayn listened, guiding his hand going lower around his waist to show him the boy version of second base.

 

He let Zayn have his whole body, letting go after guiding him to places with whispers and soft touches between their fingers like Liam was a wonderful succession of details he wanted to memorise every feel of.

 

He prodded around Liam's hips and traced with his thumb around the line below the rim of his pants, pulling them down just low enough for the hair to peak out. Liam’s head fall back with an agonising groan as Zayn attached to his neck as he let out a note of pure, unadulterated _pleasure_ of Zayn’s hand smoothing down, going from over his clothes and then suddenly, touching skin and every one of the right places as his hand moved to repeat the motion.

 

He got the hang of it pretty fast the more his wrist relaxed, pulling Liam through whimpers against his clench stomach.

 

Liam came soon after and his knees buckling under the pressure.

 

He didn't know he was on his knees until Zayn's jeans were down and his underwear tented in  Liam's mouth as he pressed his lips over his briefs, skipping 2nd and going straight to 3rd base.

 

Then that fabric came off too and his mouth was smoothing down along the vein on his cock. It felt nice against the tip of his tongue, every smooth part of his shaft and every ridge he found himself memorising. Even nicer when it throbbed against the inside of his cheek, pulsing ever so often at the same rate with his heart as everything rushes to become fully erect in Liam’s mouth so he can start to push it deeper into his throat, repeating the motion with both his hands twisting up and down where his mouth hadn’t reached yet.

 

This was always a really relaxing sport, to be honest. Liam was completely at peace when he had a dick on his tongue. In his head, when his lips sucked around the very tip as he was moving his tongue in circles, he counted how many inches until he reached home base as he was going deeper, cupping the underneath sack and massaging more music out of Zayn.

 

He seemed to really like the sounds Liam made before so, he didn’t stop that either.

 

He only got to 8 when something suddenly came over Zayn before he could reach all the way and this took a turn for the kind of freaky and not in the way people usually mean when they're talking dirty.

 

He didn’t know what the hell happened but it was like he’d become a man possessed after Liam pressed an activation code for Zayn to reach his next level form: The one that’s about to cum.

 

It turned into a bit of an olympic sport Liam was not at all ready for. At first, Liam was in complete control, and he always loved that about giving head. It didn’t matter who it was. Huge jock, authority figure, council official, he was always the one in control. Maybe that’s why he loved doing it so much. It was the only feeling of power he had. But, that was suddenly revoked as Zayn was the one running this rodeo now.

 

Zayn didn't moan at all. He cursed like a sailor, punched his fist into the wall next to him and thrust like the rapture was coming to get him.

 

With no warning at all, his hand grabbed the back of Liam’s head, bunching up his hair and pulling his face in as he filled his mouth with his entire dick. It was so sudden and so _much_ , within two inches down his tongue Liam had to suppress gagging so hard that he almost lost his life.

 

Zayn was really not at all concerned about the lack of oxygen he was letting Liam have. All he could do was hold on and pray that his years of practice prepared him for this.

 

Cause of death tonight: face fuck 

 

Getting pummeled in the face with a ball sack slapping bruises on his chin wasn't of the most romantic activities in the world. But this wasn't a romance. Not a tryst. Not lovers. No sweet words that didn't rhyme with “duck” and “mosh pit”.

 

There was no romance in the race to cum in Liam's mouth.

 

Slurping in this position was a bad move. It was like when guys were busting, testosterone burst in their chests and called for them to act fast and hard and forget that they're fucking into an actual human being which is usually why Liam made sure whoever he was blowing wasn’t fucking standing over him.

 

Liam had Zayn's entire dick thrust in and out of his throat while he held the back of Liam's head to give him enough leverage to hold his face there hostage.

 

He came fast and Liam couldn't have been more relieved. Anything over 10 seconds of not breathing air and this would've taken a _necro_ turn. He didn’t actually stop sucking until he was soft again because Liam just personally didn’t like leaving people hard, like the job wasn’t truly finished until his soul was snatched from his dick.

 

Not that he would boast about being a slut but, it wasn't really amongst Liam's top 100 favourite blows of his career. Maybe a top 500. But, who was keeping track anyway?

 

Of all those times, Liam had never hooked up with anyone like this before. In the dark, messy and drunk off his entire ass up against a door or wall or coat hanger - whatever the hell this was digging into his back - but it wasn’t as messy as imagined and Liam gave himself his own props for doing this just as expertly in this state of mind.

 

There was no mess at all, just as there never was. It shot straight down without so much as a single taste which he was glad about because swallowing with a smoker wasn’t a thing he’d ever do at his own will.

  
  
After Zayn came down, he dropped down to Liam’s level, falling with his back against the wall and breathing hard, sweating even harder.

 

His eyes focused after Liam kissed him again and the night continued to be of the strange and bizarre breeds of life.

 

He suddenly looked like a totally different person in this closet. It was almost scary how his eyes did that.

 

Their eyes had adjusted to the dark so they could actually see each other very clearly.

 

Liam watched him return to his body for the first time, now somehow completely sobered up as he gave Liam a look like he forgot who was sitting there in between his legs, draped over his stomach.

 

As if he'd just woke up from surgery with no memory of how he got here, Zayn looked around the closet they were in together. Liam could see the gears inside his head turning around to draw that he'd just made a _huge_ mistake.

 

 _"You don't have to..."_ Liam started to tell him he didn't have to get Liam off, even though they both knew Liam came already. 

 

He was more than satisfied with getting him off.

 

Zayn gives him that look again, only this time is says _, you're damn right I don't have to._

 

It's beyond awkward when Liam stands up and wipes his mouth while Zayn pulls up his jeans and the rest of their clothes, the clank of metal jiggling around from his belt as he zipped himself up while Liam stood there and watched.

 

He thinks he understood what this was and why Zayn needed to do it in the dark where he couldn’t see him.

 

It was an entire step below a one night stand.

 

Zayn wanted to get blown, probably the first time he’d ever had a guy go down on him, and he got it.

 

He had no other reason to still be standing there so, he went to exit but Zayn grabs his arm with a frantic gasp.

 _"Wait,"_ he squeaks and Liam instantly comes back over to him, holding his arms so he won't fall over.

 

After an orgasm that screamed at the Lord like that, if Liam let go he would've dropped to the floor at Liam's feet for an entirely different reason than returning the favour.

 

They agreed not to go out the way they came in, using the door that lead into another, quieter room.

 

 _"Can you... walk with me back to my apartment?"_ He finally says after Liam rights him again.

 

He was so _shocked_ that he didn’t immediately tell him to buzz off after he asked, Liam just nodded quickly, holding Zayn's arm up to his shoulder.

 

"Yeah, sure --"

 

 _"I live like --"_ Zayn hiccupped mid -sentence.

 

 _"Two blocks away from here,"_ his hand flopped in a weird direction above their heads that Liam supposed was the way to his flat.

 

 _"I don't wanna--"_ hiccup, _"fall into a sewer or --"_ _  
_

 

_"-- no no, it's fine --"_

 

_“--- get hit by a bus or some shit. No one would come lookin’ for me,”_

 

Liam had been nodding the whole time, like he'd lost control of his neck.

 

He didn't care if Zayn lived on Liberty Island. He wasn't walking home alone like this. Even if Liam's equally shit-faced in multiple ways, at least he could walk.

 

He didn't know what happened to Zayn within the last 10 minutes but it was as if all of Zayn’s strength left with his climax, like it took him out.

 

But it was more than that. He wasn't just drunk or spent from his load thrusting out of him. It was his eyes and his speech.

 

He looked...  _empty._ Like his voice was echoing a little lowly from somewhere inside him. Liam did not dismiss this.

 

_"Of course I'll walk with you."_

 

Zayn looked him in the face again with a crooked smile. He looked so sad, Liam could see tears in his eyes like he was nearing to cry, making his eyelashes lump together.

 

_"Thanks. Hate walkin’ alone."_

 

He toppled forward as he said that and Liam caught him with a dragged out grunt. It was like catching a crate of bricks. He felt a lot bigger than he looked.

 

After feeling that 60% of him was actually his dick, Liam didn’t wonder why. He was kind of glad they were in the dark too. He doesn’t care who it’s attached to. If he sees an anaconda, he runs screaming.

 

Dragging Zayn and his massive prick was going to be an exercise. He got Zayn’s arm over his shoulder and out of the closet easily. But the steps weren’t gonna go the same way.

 

He couldn't remember how they got to the hallway or why they took the stairs.

 

A lot of this was jumping through black holes, like he’d blink and they were in a new location he couldn’t remember how they’d got to. The whole party was a blank space entirely.

 

"Thought you didn't like thank you's?"

 

Liam tried to keep him talking so he wouldn’t pass out, even though if he did, talking wasn’t going to stop them from breaking their necks down these stairs. He didn't know what was wrong with Zayn right now. he couldn't describe how disarming it was seeing him so disoriented and actually watching the life leave his eyes back there. Keeping him talking was more than just to keep him awake. He just needed to make sure he was still all the way there.

 

He kind of liked hearing Zayn’s voice like this. It was completely unfiltered and he actually did mumble _really_ low. Not quite a whisper but, like an old man.

 

 _"I like givin’ em.”_ He said as Liam leaned down to hear him.

 

_“You kept me alive today, Liam Payne. Least I could do is thank you for it."_

 

If you asked Liam to repeat 95% of this conversation or half of anything after they got to the rooftop, he’d look at you and ask the same question.

 

He never remembered what they said or did when they were shit-faced. The only clear memory that would always remain was the way Zayn looked at him and how his eyes changed and the haunting things he sometimes said. 

 

And also his dick throbbing in his mouth and sliding in and out of his throat. That was always pretty memorable.

 

 

His head was spinning again as they walked down the street and it was an _awful_ feeling. He hadn’t been this fucked up in ages and he felt like crawling out of his body and drying up in a sewer. But he said he’d walk Zayn home and it’d be pretty rude to die first.

 

Liam asked Zayn if he had a roommate or anything so he'd know beforehand if they were about to wake someone at 3 in the morning.

 

_“I can’t even remember what my room looks like, Liam Payne.”_

 

Liam didn’t know if that was a yes or no.

 

He kept saying his name at the end of each sentence. He never thought his name was very fun to say like others but, Zayn made it fun. _Leeyum Pain._ He got the feeling Zayn liked it cause it rhymed with his own name.

 

Zain Pain. Liam drunkenly laughed at the thought.

 

Now _that_ had a funny ring to it.

 

“So you live alone?”

 

Zayn shook his head.  

 

_“Live with my mother.... Or do I?”_

 

He couldn’t remember anything at all. Liam decided they were probably going the wrong way as they were heading to the subway station and not “2 blocks away” so, he decided to just let Zayn sleep in his room as he turned them around and made his way to Mac hall.

 

He doubted his roommate was there. He doubted the guy even existed.

 

_“A mother is your first roommate, isn't she?”_

 

Liam wouldn't know. His mother didn't want to ruin her figure so she had a surrogate. And his roommate probably got hit by a bus.

 

“Does that make your father the realtor?”

 

He laughed and he laughed like Liam had just told the most hilarious joke of the century. And that laughter was a great an answer as any.

 

 _“Father.”_ Zayn repeated, experimentally turning his head sideways to ponder it like it was a complex piece of literature he'd just been asked to interpret.

 

_“A father is a thing people can leave behind, Liam.”_

 

It seemed like he was reading it from his own personal dictionary.

 

**_Father [noun: person, place or thing] - A thing people can leave behind_ **

 

 _“They are the fuckin… fuckin’_ **_appendix_ ** _. All they gotta do is have an orgasm, jizz in a chick and move along. You wanna know how I feel about a father, Leeyum? Fuck a father. Every last one. Don't need em.”_

 

Liam couldn't say he agreed or disagreed. His father wasn't the greatest either.

 

_“That douchebag could be dead for all I know. I hope he’s burning in hell for saddling my mother with me.”_

 

That made Liam really sad.

 

His dad might not be a great one but, at least he knew he was _living._

 

 _“Don’t be sad,”_ Zayn laughed as he nudged his side with his knuckle, patting his aching stomach lightly.

 

_“Life’s a tragic bitch. And then you die. That’s how the song goes. Death is just like life in some parts of Brooklyn.”_

 

He kind of hated the direction this conversation had gone. But he didn't interrupt him.

 

 _“I think about it way too much.”_ Zayn sighed _._

 

_“I think about it so much, I dream about it. See my corpse layin’ in a crypt, a thousand feet under. Everyone in the world walking around on Earth above me, don’t even think twice about what’s right there next to ‘em.”_

 

Liam grimaced at the morbid mental image Zayn was painting in his head.

 

_“Dream about dying alone. Pray about dying alone. I’m thinkin’... I don’t wanna be alone.”_

 

He suddenly felt like crying as he listened to Zayn’s drunken rambling. He felt the same way. All alone. Even when he’s in a crowded party. Even if he hooked up with someone that never looked at him twice ever again.

 

But that wasn’t true. No one here was alone. They were all in the same space together. They just chose not to see who was right in front of them, at least, that was what Liam learned today.

 

“Why do you think you’re alone? You’re not--”

 

 _“No one wants to be around a drunk, Liam. We lose everyone.”_ He shook his head.

 

_“Crypt always told me I only got one life to live so, I best make som’in of it and make sure someone witnesses it. Gave me a flask and a broken watch. Then I watched him die right there on his sofa.”_

 

Liam was shocked at what he told him.

 

He’d hear a lot about his granddad Crypt in the future. The beatnik that read poetry in the 50s all over Long Island who had a low voice, told lots of stories and _twalked wike thus._

 

His mother’s father arrived on Ellis Island when he was 5 years old from one of those old countries after that horrible thing call World War 2 happened and a bunch of central Europeans decided it was time to get the fuck off that continent and head West. Crypt was one of those people. Or at least, the last 3 surviving members of his family from Poland.

 

He said the night his granddad died, he’d been staying with him for a weekend. He sat there with Zayn on a Saturday night, telling him stories about his younger days like he always did and Zayn watched drink himself to death as the life left his eyes with his final breath.

 

He said he had a feeling Crypt knew it was going to happen that weekend and that he wanted someone to witness it. So he chose his grandson. Zayn didn’t tell anyone for hours. He didn't even cry. Just sat there, alone with a corpse, drinking from the very flask that killed him.

 

It was so sick. More than sick. It was _horrifying._

 

It had to have been the most disturbing thing Liam had ever heard someone do to their kid. To make them witness their end, especially at such an impressionable age.

 

He stayed silent while Zayn rambled, revealing information that was _way_ too personal. Stuff Liam didn’t even want to know.

 

 _“I guess he figured what's the point in dyin’ if you're doin’ it alone?”_ He reasoned but Liam didn’t think that was right.

 

It was one thing if it were natural. Or an accident. But this was totally intentional. He made it sound like he was teaching him some life lesson about being alone in life.

 

Maybe dying alone was the way it was should’ve been. He can’t imagine a night like that didn’t affect Zayn horribly.

 

_“I do everything alone, Liam. He’d be so disappointed in me.”_

 

He kept saying that over and over.

 

“What about your friends?” Liam tried to change the subject, feeling paranoid now that this was the kind of person Zayn looked up to.

 

Paranoid that Zayn felt like his death was something someone needed to witness as he thought about them on that dangerous rooftop, drinking from that flask like it wasn’t actually full of poison.

 

He didn’t know what he was contemplating up there or how often he went alone.

 

With the way he was being right now, it felt like he needed to keep Zayn in his sight and his flask away from his mouth.

 

 _“Don’t got any friends.”_ Zayn shrugged.

 

_“They say I drink too much.”_

 

“Because they care about you--”

 

 _“I know I drink too much.”_ Zayn cut him off.

 

_“I’m tryna stop drinking so much.”_

 

Liam looked over at him and saw tears falling down Zayn face, which crumbled just as fast.

“God knows I'm _fucking_ trying,” Zayn's head dropped as he started crying and laughing at the same time, his eyelashes stuck with tears like he’d just watched a tragedy all over again.

 

Liam couldn’t tell which one he was doing more as his shoulders shook.

 

It was a real sick combination. Liam hated watching him do it because he looked like the saddest boy in the world. A little body that carried a soul too heavy for him to handle.

 

Not someone flew across rooftops like a fearless boy wonder. A hopeless one who jumped off it to end it all.

 

 _“Hey,”_ Liam took his shoulder and held him still. “You’re not alone. I’m here too.”

 

He needed this all to calm down, for Zayn to hold still with him the same way Zayn held him before they ran.

 

Zayn took care of him when he needed it but no one was doing the same thing for Zayn. He needed someone here. Not to watch him end his life. Just hold to still with him.

 

_“You're not alone, okay? You’re doing a great job. Cause I'm glad I met you. That's something isn’t it?”_

 

_“You don't even know me.”_

 

_“I really want to.”_

 

_“You’re gonna leave me.”_

 

_“Why would I leave you?”_

_  
_

_"Cause I'm acting like a fuckin' freak."_ He laughed with a shrug.

 _  
_ _  
_ _“I don't really know, to be honest with you.”_ He finally said. _“No one ever tells me why.”_

 

Liam got him to stop crying, sitting on the kerb with him in front of his flat.

 

_“Well, this moment is our chance now. Okay? Isn’t that what you told me?”_

 

Their hands were held together, gentle and steady and shoulder to shoulder. 

_“I'm living the same time as you so this is right now, yeah? Otherwise, this never would've happened to me.”_

 

_“What wouldn’t?”_

 

_“Blowing you.”_

 

Zayn hiccuped on his laugh through his tears and Liam was glad he got him to laugh as he was shaking his head at the ground before he looked up at Liam with eyes that looked a little less hollow and miserable as Liam wiped his cheek.

 

 _“I hate blowjobs.”_ Zayn said. He was finally winding down after all the crying.

 

He had to have been the only guy Liam ever heard say that.

 

It occurred to Liam that he didn’t really ask him to do it. He’d only said he kissed better in the dark. And now he _really_ knew why,

 

As they sat on the kerb, Zayn told him he didn't know what always came over him whenever he came or what was wrong with him but he hated them because orgasms always made him start crying afterwards like a freak, especially after copious amounts of alcohol.

 

Liam realised Zayn was describing after sex and everything made perfect sense.

 

Zayn wasn't an emotional drunk. He was an emotional  _fuck._ He didn't want Liam to see him crying in the dark but he assured him he had fun.

 

It was actually called post-coital dysphoria, otherwise known as “the after sex blues”, which was this insane haze that took over a person that could be perfectly fine right before sex and turn them into a wreck after. Basically the opposite of a sex high, but a sex low. _Really low_.

 

The only reason he knew about it was because he felt it too which is why he never slept with people anymore until he got to know them. Which meant he went past 3rd base anymore.

 

Only, it happened to him  _after_ actually having sex… not the other way around.

 

Even though getting off with each other involves physical closeness and intimacy, the haze afterwards is still dysphoric, angsty and intensely lonely _despite_ that closeness. He can feel it all over Zayn right now, finally coming out of it.

 

There is no science to why it happens to some people and it usually only happened to girls or after sex. To Zayn, the influx of dysphoria slammed into him after he came.

 

Liam had never met another guy who felt it. Especially not someone who got this torn up after a _blowjob_.

 

He thought about Jesy's warning:

 

_Rambling. Emotional. Anger._

 

She failed to mention that the next levels only happened after sex or some form of it.

 

_"I know, I'm a freak."_

 

 _"No you aren't."_ Liam smiled, nodding his head to his shoulder,

 

Liam told him it was okay, and that they didn't have to do it again.

 

_“But you do it so good.”_

 

 _“I know, babe,”_ Liam laughed now.

 

It was really relieving to know that Zayn did actually like him and everything that happened in the closet wasn't a reaction to what he originally thought.

 

Sure, the latter of after-sex was kind of terrible and depressing as fuck... but at least Liam could make him feel better until it finally wore off.

 

 _“_ _We can still kiss?”_

 

Zayn didn’t answer with words. He took Liam’s hand over his neck and leaned into Liam again with their heads against each other.

 

 _“Kiss me in my room.”_ He said against his cheek.

 

They really didn’t have to say anything more because that sounded like a perfect idea.

 

Liam picked Zayn up on his back with a grunting effort that made Zayn laugh as he piggy backed along the way. Climbing up the familiar brownstone stairs of Mac and stumbled along the wooden walls, instinctively going to the 3rd floor as Zayn told him to, unlocking his door with someone’s replica of his own key.

 

He dropped Zayn down and the lips were instantly attached again as he backed Liam inside, falling onto the wrong side of his own empty room, into a bed much more comfortable than his own.

 

Zayn kicked off his jeans while Liam pulled out of his own, laughing at how cute his little bum looked as he wiggled out of them before he was toppling forward in between Liam’s legs, kissing between his skinny thighs.

 

Zayn shushed him silently as he went up his stomach, to his neck, settling himself over Liam comfortably.

 

It was ridiculous how comfortable they both were, Liam didn’t even bat an eye at seeing he was in his own room, in his roommates bed, doing things you really shouldn’t do on other people’s property.

 

The angled light from their window made Zayn’s skin looked like it was inked blue. And then his shirt came off… then he _really_ looked like ink.

 

There was barely any clean skin, tattoos weaved along his skin for miles.

 

 _“Wow,”_ Liam’s hand brushed over his chest admiringly.

 

_“What?”_

 

_“You’re so fucking gorgeous,”_

 

Zayn shook his head with a snort as he kissed Liam, pulling his legs up on either side on his waist.

 

_“You’re one to talk.”_

 

 _“What?”_ Liam pushed him off with a wide grin.

 

_“You think I’m gorgeous?”_

 

Zayn rolled his eyes.

 

 _“You're good-looking. Model-esque. Beautiful."_  He admitted. _"Now, you wanna make out with me or pillow talk?”_

 

 _“I want you to repeat what you just said.”_ Liam sat up in bed excitedly while Zayn sighed heavily, shaking his head at the ceiling as Liam moved circles into the little islands at his waist that were his hip bones.

 

 _“Z… say it again,”_ He tiptoed his fingers down Zayn’s navel, which he didn’t seem to mind.

 

“Alright… no homo but--”

 

Liam burst out laughing as his head fell into Zayn’s chest from that opener.

 

 _“Right. No homo.”_ he repeated mockingly. "You can do better than that, New York,"

 

Zayn covered his mouth before continuing.

 

 _“But,”_ he went on despite Liam’s laughter tickling his palm with his bubbly breaths.

 

_“Every time I see you in class, my heart starts doing this weird shit and I kind of like it,”_

 

Liam pulled his hand off.

 

_“Yeah?”_

 

_“Yeah.”_

 

He was really loving the sound of this song. His hand slid down Zayn’s pants and he did that thing with his jaw that flexed his cheekbones, when it clenches up and the vein at his neck pulses in sync with the thob in Liam’s hand as he closed his eyes with a sweet little hum at the back of his throat.

 

 _“What else do I make you do?”_ He coaxes slowly out of him. Zayn shakes his head no but his body is pulling Liam in.

 

 _“Come on… say something sweet again.”_ Liam kissed the side of his jaw with a smile, going to his ear.

 

_“... make me wanna suck your dick some more--”_

 

 _“Jesus,”_ Zayn jerked forward from a particularly excited flick of Liam’s wrist so his forehead was against his, allowing Liam to kiss him lightly through his grin.

 

_“Don’t talk dirty to me--”_

 

_“Why? Do you like it?”_

 

Zayn shook his head no.

 

_"You're an angel. You're not supposed to talk like that. I feel like I'm befouling you."_

 

 _“You WISH you befouled me."_  Liam laughed.

 

 _"And if so, then why_ _are you so hard?”_

 

_“Because you’re jerkin’ me OFF with rose petals and kisses.”_

 

Liam pushed him on his back comfortably, moving down his body when he removes his hand as he kisses over the fabric of Zayn's underwear, looking up at him as he slowly pulls them down to wrap his hand around his hard-on.

 

_“Keep talking. Okay?”_

 

Zayn nodded quickly. And now, Liam could actually do this properly. With a boy lying on his back, and Liam doing all the rest.

 

He presses his lips into the tip like he’s kissing Zayn’s lips, upstroking him slowly with his fingertips massaging that vein like how he knows he likes it.

 

“ _Shit Liam,”_ his voice breaks with a gasp.

 

 _“What do you want me t’ say--”_ He wavers, unsure of what to say now that he's put on the spot with Liam deepthroating him like a goddamn expert. Liam laughs a bit, continuing to massage him as he pulls up again with a smack.

 

 _“Something sweet.”_ Liam mumbles as he closes his eyes and throats him again.

 

_“How was your day?”_

 

Zayn leans back towards the ceiling, breathing deeply.

 

“ _Well,”_ he starts as Liam goes back down on him.

 

Zayn's licks over his puffy lips and tells Liam about his day, starting with seeing Liam in class this morning and wondering why he hated Zayn so much, holding back the urge to just finish right there all over him as he watches pre-cum smeared across Liam's mouth and cheek when he kisses down his length, purposefully making his face dirty.

 

“ _Wow_ ,” His hips moved up as his eyes fluttered like they were twitching, trying to focus on speech and not swears.

 

 _“Don’t fuck me in my mouth this time please?”_ Liam made sure and Zayn apologised.

 

 _“‘M sorry… you make all these s-sounds when I’m inside.. y-you… it’s d-driving me crazy,”_ He winds his fingers in Liam’s hair and Liam hums. He remembers pretty vividly.

 

_“Like that.”_

 

Liam snorts, his head nodding back as he slides in and out of his throat easily, pushing his tongue underneath his dick so the tip drags across smooth roof of his mouth. It tickles but it feels nice, heavy on his tongue when he pulls back and sucks at the tip again, swallowing everything as he massages his balls and makes him moan above him.

 

Zayn’s fist punches through the wall next to them with a bang as his head is thrown back, grabbing the back of Liam’s head and yanking him off when he bottom’s out a 3rd time. There’s no way he can hold out a 4th.

 

He almost whines when Zayn pulls out so he won't cum in his mouth.

 

Liam opens his eyes and smiles sideways as Zayn's chest heaves, looking at Liam with profound yearning. He knows Zayn's holding back his urge to cum so he opens his mouth, letting his tongue hang out, meaning it's okay for Zayn aim there but Zayn only suppresses the urge to cum on his face even more. It’s almost painful not to but he doesn't want to do it like this.

 

He reaches down and pulls Liam up to him, wiping his cheek off with his thumb, which Liam licks off, sucking on his finger. Zayn rolls his eyes, shaking his head as he kisses him.

 

_“Why are you so fucking dirty? Who did this to you?"_

 

 _"Louis Tomlinson."_ Liam smiles into the kiss, letting Zayn pull him back up as he sits on his dick, only separated by the one layer of his underwear now and he slides down his length.

 

Zayn didn't seem to like that name.

 

He’s felt enough of it rubbing against the crease of his ass. He wants it _inside._

 

 _“I want you to cum.”_ Liam whispers. Zayn kisses him tenderly, nodding against him again.

 

_“Will you?”_

 

Zayn nods again.

 

 _“Inside me?”_ Liam adds.

 

He was so restrained before but now, he’s all of the sudden ready to throw it back completely. He hadn’t wanted to fuck someone harder in his life and he hadn’t realised how horny he actually was until now.

 

Zayn makes Liam settle the fuck down, grinding against him like he’s humping a play toy as he pulls him back and shakes his head no.

 

_“You’re drunk and I don’t wanna ruin this… you don't need to see me getting all fucked up and weird again.”_

 

_“So are you… ”_

 

Zayn shakes his head.

 

_“I’m never drunk… even when I am. If I fuck you tonight, I can almost guarantee you we’ll never see each other again. You won't like me anymore.”_

 

_“You… wanna see me again?”_

 

The prospect of this was actually way better than the idea of sex with him.

 

Zayn didn’t answer that one but he did tell Liam he wanted to see that gallery, only to see if that Divino prick really was worth as much as Liam was sucking him off for.

 

They talked for hours again so the night never truly ended. Not until Liam was completely drained of energy now that his horn dog was calm and his head was banging hard.

 

Against Zayn’s chest, they both watched Zayn’s other love through the window.

 

 _“I had a really… amazing time with you… today.”_ Liam mumbled through the little thicket of hair on Zayn’s chest, eyes cranking closed at the break of daylight outside.

 

 _“Yeah… me too.”_ Zayn murmured back, squeezing his shoulder as he felt him slowly melting into sleep like an ice cube washing away into drops of water.

 

“You’re pretty amazing.”

 

At 6:30am, Liam was out cold. The good kind that’s gonna be waking up with a headache ripping his skull in half as he was hogging most of Zayn’s chest and all of his covers. Little shit didn’t know what was about to hit him.

 

At 7, The City still lied awake and something had already hit him. Really hard. Like falcon punch to the dick hard.

 

He’d been watching out his window, contemplating life and doing mathematical calculations as he stared at the little card on his desk that Liam had given him with his home address on it.

 

He swears he stared at the letters on the slip from across the room for a full two hours.

 

_“Oh… fuck,”_

 

He wasn't allowed to drink for another 6 hours. He prayed to God for a hang over to knock him out for 7.

 

He looked down at Liam on top of him and the feeling in his arm was all gone.

 

 _“Fuck!”_ He hissed quietly.

 

Instead of struggling further or kicking Liam off, he just collapsed. The night was over, and there was nothing anyone could do about anything but just lie there and wait for the day to really start.

 

He felt like this was when the dickhead narrator of his life said something like  _Get Ready to RUMBLEEEEEEE!!_

 

There were over 50,000 students that went to NYU, which made up less than 1 percent of the entire population. That made the odds of running into the guy he had an infatuation with that refused to acknowledge him in class at a party nearly impossible to have ever happened. Until he actually spoke to him.

 

He didn’t just almost fuck his soulmate at the wrong time last night.

 

It was his roommate. And hell was calling his name.

 

It seemed like neither of them were making it to class today. Sleep now, hangovers later and the most awkward living situation to ever grace the runaway of Brooklyn Heights.

 

_“Fuck me.”_

 

The worst part about the night? He left his fucking skateboard.

 

 _[_ [ _i fell in love with you one night in september.]_ ](https://soundcloud.com/byrook1e/september)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact just because I love oversharing things no one asked about: The last bj scene of this is taken from something I wrote a while ago of Liam blowing a demon and it is literally stolen almost word for word from the next chapter of my mythology fic that I haven't published yet so... don't tell anyone over there I told you that. (If you are already reading that fic, just pretend I never spoiled this and that you haven't already read a slightly tweaked scene about Liam blowing Lux when this shows up again :) 
> 
> part iv. The clink


	4. The couple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn and Liam go over the terms of their relationship. Afterwards, Liam has another calm night out with his new mate.

 

 **_  
_ ** **_✯✯✯_  **

 

****

 

**_  
_ **_✯✯✯_  ** **

 

 

**iv. The couple**

 

One thing Liam learned about falling in love with someone for the first time is that it was kind of like drinking for the first time.

 

You could either get be hurt really badly and wish you’d never bothered trying in the first place or have the most wonderful time of your life and it had very little to do with how carelessly unrestrained or carefully paced you took your first shot.

 

It all depended on who you took that first shot _with_.

 

Liam didn’t drink hard liquor often or fall in love in the past. He obliviously leapt into both the same way an unsupervised blind person climbing the edge of a cliff would. And he can thank Zayn for his usage of finding a way to make alcohol a metaphor for everything in life.

 

The thing about his first time with Zayn, it was an even mixture of both.

 

He had this thing called “duality” he told Liam about once, being two things at the same time. Someone who did wild things by night and toned down by day then somehow, made these two sides of him meet in the middle for Liam because unlike everyone else, he was the only person that seen Zayn day _and_ night every single day.

 

Liam started off regretting ever taking part of Zayn’s life within the same 24 hours of meeting him. But Zayn always managed to do something unexpected and ensure that Liam wouldn’t get hurt in the end.

 

He made rules.

 

There was a board above the desk in Liam’s room that had over a dozen laws chalked across it entailing what was legal and what was illegal in this bedroom if they ever wanted to live together peacefully.

 

Some rules were permanent, some only lasted for the day or week.

 

_Liam Payne’s music - illegal after 6PM (PERMANENT)_

 

_Zayn coming home after 3AM - illegal (THIS WEEK - NEW SEMESTER)_

 

_Bringing anyone here past midnight - illegal_

 

_Having Harry Styles over for more than 1 hour at a time - ABOLISHED SINCE LAST YEAR_

 

Liam’s personal favourite was the rule about hermits last year. It wasn’t clearly written across the board that Liam wasn’t allowed to hole himself up in his room everyday but, if something was happening in the outside world, Liam never stayed home and missed it anymore.

 

Whenever Zayn left the room, he usually took Liam with him. It was just a rule they never broke.

 

Today was just _not_ one of those days.

 

To fill time, he takes an hour long shower thinking maybe by the time he got out Zayn would be waiting in their room and he could run around town with him like he usually does.

 

By the time he’s washed and conditioned his hair with a water activated gel cleanser, his body with a honey almond scrub along with every nook and crack three times over and an exfoliating gel scrub for his face and after shave to get any peach fuzz off his mouth, had 4 false alarms whenever the door opens thinking it’s someone that it’s not and gotten _back_ to his room fully exfoliated and in nothing but a towel, Zayn still hadn’t come home yet.

 

This must be how girls felt when they get a full body wax for a hot date only to get stood up.

 

They usually knew where each other were and texted in between the times they didn’t.

 

Breaking this habit of communication so suddenly is starting to get him paranoid that maybe something has happened, especially since Zayn didn’t answer his phone or open Liam’s text. It reminds him of the first day they came face to face in their room all over again.

 

He always wakes up before Liam but he doesn’t usually leave the room without him unless it’s dark out.

 

He’s been gone all morning and all afternoon on a Saturday of all days. He’s not tutoring today or out at a bar. So where the hell is he?

 

Unlike before, Liam can actually find out now.

 

“Hey,” Liam calls up Leigh, clearing his throat when she answers so he doesn’t sound like he’s pacing around anxiously in the room.

 

“No, nothing’s wrong,” He laughs, lying. “I was just wondering if you spoke to Z today?”

 

She’s gotten used to him calling Zayn “Zed” by now even though everyone else says “Zee”. Zayn likes it when Liam calls him something different than everyone else.

 

She tells Liam she hasn’t seen or heard from Zayn since they were out at the Clink last night with Harry and his girlfriend, Perrie.

 

“You said he met someone last night?” Liam stills, then quickly tells Leigh not to tell Zayn he’s asked about any of this at all.

 

Zayn was definitely here when Liam fell into bed with him last night. He remembers someone elbowing him off when he tried to cuddle.

 

Then again… Liam was beyond drunk and he didn’t check to see if that was _actually_ Zayn. He usually lets Liam wrap his arms around him from behind.

 

An awful realisation hits him, thinking about what would happen if Zayn really met someone.

 

What if he got a girlfriend? He’s bound to one day with all the paramours he runs through. What the hell would happen to the way they do things around here?

 

Liam would be replaced in every aspect.

 

He feels like he’s just found out that his husband is seeing other women.

 

 **“He didn’t ‘meet’ someone. I said he met** **_up_ ** **with her.”** Leigh breaks his thoughts.

 

 **“** Is there a difference?” Liam squints.

 

**“Liam it was like 5 minutes. That barely counts as a meet-up.”**

 

It doesn’t take Zayn more than 5 minutes to find someone who is interested in coming home with him.

 

 **“She wasn’t even that pretty. Coked out party girls in that place are** **_never_ ** **pretty.”**

 

Liam rolls his eyes.

 

“Why would I care if she was pretty?”

 

In a nasty, rat infested drug den like the Clink, you’d find a unicorn before you find something any sane person would willingly stick their dick into.

 

**“Do you need me to spell it out for you?”**

 

“Contrary to whatever the hell you’re thinking, me and him are just--”

 

 **“Friends?!?”** She laughs.

 

 _“Roommates.”_ Liam corrects her, although the way he says it needs a question mark at the end.

 

 **_Roommates [room_ ** **_✯_ ** **_mates ] - Liam and Zayn?_ **

 

That was a needed question mark. He might not have known entirely what all they were yet but he knew for certain that roommates was definitely one of them.

 

His phone buzzes at his ear then and he glances at it to find a text from Zayn.

 

**“Don’t give me that bullshit, Liam Payne. You are so much more than roommates, do you think I’m stupid?”**

 

“I think you don’t know what you’re talking about.” He retorts seriously.

 

She almost never knows what the hell she’s talking about when it comes to Zayn, never knowing the full story before she jumps to some ridiculous conclusion along with everyone else.

 

No one knows Zayn like Liam and he doesn’t really know what the hell they are.

 

He was looking for Zayn, not a psychological evaluation.

 

_Z : r u still home? I didn't wanna wake u up_

 

Liam smiles, texting him back while Leigh lectures him.

 

_Z : u need anything while im out?_

 

_‘out where??’_

 

 _Z: the market_ . _u were pretty fucked up last night_

 

 **“You’re not roommates.”** A little voice he’s not even paying attention to comes muffled out of his speaker as he flops on Zayn’s bed, texting him he doesn’t need anything nor is he still hung over.

 

If either of them had a bad hangover, one of them took a trip to the market to pick up their home remedy.

 

**“You’re a couple, Liam.”**

 

“You know he’ll probably be home soon, I’ll see you later!” He hangs up on her quickly to call Zayn.

 

_“I’m on wheels so make it quick.”_

 

The wind whistling in the speaker drowns out Zayn’s shaky voice.

 

_“What do you want? You’ve been blowing up my goddamn phone all morning, is the room on fire?”_

 

He doesn’t really want anything. He just wanted to hear his voice.

 

“Isn’t it illegal to be talking on the phone while in motion in this state?”

 

_“You’re thinkin’ of Jersey. I’m in central park. And what have I ever done that’s legal in this state anyways?”_

 

Liam needed to go to the printers, the framer’s and the bank later to take care of all the purchases at the gallery today but, he didn’t feel like doing any of that right now.

 

“You don't have to get me anything.”

 

_“Well I'm getting you something anyways cause I'm sick of Harry following me around,”_

 

Liam’s grinning wide as Zayn rants to him.

 

_“He’s gonna ask you to come to the Clink tonight and you need to tell him fuckin’ NO and that we have plans! I’m not gonna spend a 2nd night in a row listenin’ to Horan’s death screech into a mic to a den of bloody vampires,”_

 

“Say that again?”

 

_“Say what again?”_

 

“The last two words.”

 

Ever so often, Zayn talks like him and it’s the most adorable thing he does lately.

 

Horan was the lead singer in Harry’s band and Zayn hated him with a passion. But Zayn hated everyone with a passion that wasn’t his roommate.

 

Liam didn’t know Horan’s first name. Rockstars usually only went by 1 name. He was kind of the leader of a cult of vampires. Most of their “shows” were in sweaty warehouses, which was a slight improvement from frat parties because at least they were being paid now.

 

Most of their fans were connected through drugs as the circle Zayn runs with are either dealers, addicts or both, coke-head models included.

 

Liam’s met all Zayn’s friends. He’d only met Horan a few times, a bold and enthusiastic boy with an cute Irish charm but you’d never in a million years guess what kind of music he made and after hearing it, you might never look at him the same ever again as a tiny demon lives in his vocal chords.

 

They rarely ever agreed on music but, death metal and dubstep really wasn’t Liam’s cup of tea either so he’d gladly get Zayn out of going back there tonight.

 

He tells Zayn he seriously doesn’t have to get him anything because he shouldn’t be on the phone and on wheels. He spends the next 5 minutes telling Liam to fuck off as he promises he’ll survive and be home in an hour because he’s getting something “special” for them tonight.

 

Liam doesn’t know when they became a unit but he always gets excited when Zayn gets stuff for the both of them to enjoy together. They’re probably a few months away from buying a dog together, which is like 2.5 children in college student terms.

 

It’s usually alcohol but Liam likes to think it’s his way of saying he likes them as an “us” too.

 

Their call ends with “fuck you” and “goodbye”, attached to an _x_ translated by “can’t wait to see what you got _this_ time”.

 

Leigh’s crazy. This is totally normal roommate behaviour.

 

Regardless of everything, one constant here was indisputable. They lived together. So they _were_ roommates. This was a fact they both accepted aeons ago. He can remember it like it was yesterday. The day they set a very strange bar for exactly how their living situation would go for the year.

 

It all started with the worst hangover of all time and a single rule book that changed everything.

 

 

**✯✯✯**

 

**_364 - 357 days ago_ **

 

 

Last night was not the first day Liam got drunk at a frat party. It was the first time he got exposed to the last level of Dante’s Inferno.

 

When he says the light peeking through the blinds _crippled_ him when he opens his eyes, he means he actually thought he woke up with polio and the mental capacity of a sponge.

 

Wherever he went and how the hell he got home was all wasted. Based off the fuming gut rot in his belly and dehydration level equivalent to the Sahara desert making his mouth feel like it needed to be pissed in, he could draw that he’d had enough alcohol to probably kill a small buffalo and death was by far a better alternative than getting out of bed today.

 

Lifting up his head set off all the gongs, every sudden movement making him wonder why he never invested in a domesticated I.V. unit.

 

This couldn’t be slept off. It couldn’t be walked off. He didn’t just want to die. He _needed_ to.

 

The minute he sat all the way up, he was puking out his guts in the sheets.

 

Death would seriously be better than the shit upchucking through his body.

 

After it came out, he didn’t feel any better and he knew there would be more. He had no choice but to get up and clean the mess because he was not uncivilised enough to wade in his own vomit. But he noticed something strange.

 

Everything in his room was on the wrong side.

 

His bed was empty and unused. A mess of his clothes thrown all over the floor with a used condom hanging out of the bin below him. He was completely naked in a bed that he’d just totally defouled.

 

He had to give himself the first place trophy for being _that_ demonic roommate from the pits of hell for this one but, this was not at all like anything he would do on his _own_ , let alone while living with someone.

 

The most strange thing of all had to be the literal stranger sitting at his desk he noticed after a soft snore brought Liam’s attention to the other side of the room near the door.

 

Some poor guy was passed in a way that looked like he might’ve been dead too, his whole face planted in a pile of books.

 

The fresh scent of old spice and weed coming from him, plaid shirt on his back identical to the millions in the wardrobe across from Liam’s and brand new ashtray being put to use with 3 cigarette butts in it… it took less than 5 seconds for Liam to realise the moment his brain connected the vibe that he lives here.

 

_It’s him!_

 

An even worse realisation kicked in right after.

 

_Liam just threw up on his bed._

 

Even asleep, he looked like the kind of guy that kicked in people’s faces if they even scoffed his shoes. This would for sure be the day Liam died if he didn’t move his ass, _now._

 

The fuzziness in Liam’s head sloshed around like water as he stumbled out of bed as fast as his turtle pace would allow him to. He reached for random clothes to throw on without and got his cellphone and car keys off the nightstand.

 

**_Saturday, 4:48 p.m._ **

 

First of all, this wasn’t his phone otherwise it would’ve his screensaver would’ve been a young Keanu Reeves instead of a Star Wars poster.

 

But if the time was correct then he’d effectively became _that_ guy that parties all night and wastes the next day pissing on every single obligation he had after a single night out, one of which included his internship at the gallery he was meant to be at nearly _5 hours ago._

 

Divino was going to be livid _._ But that was the last of his concern _._

 

There were a few text messages filling this guy’s screen, the first recently read one Liam sees being from someone called _LA_.

 

_L.A.: Zayn this is the last warning. We’re not missing the reservation because you’re babysitting. Harry’s coming up there in 30 and if Liam is still in your bed now would be the time to wake him up!_

 

It was read about 30 minutes ago. A new unread one pops up then the says,

 

_L.A.: He’s fine to come to dinner with us if he’s hungry_

 

After his brain gets finished short-circuiting, the phone dropped out of Liam’s hand.

 

So many memories of Harry, frat boys, models, closets and _Zayn_ started blacking in and out of his head.

 

It was Zayn sleeping right there on his _own_ desk since his bed was obviously unavailable to him.

 

More importantly, memories of Liam throwing his neck at Zayn’s massive… _shit._

 

Bad wording but Liam’s mind was scattered all over.

 

 _“Oh my G--”_ The knives in his throat wouldn’t allow him to finish the phrase, closing up in his throat.

 

Based off how many times he put it to use last night, he was surprised he hadn’t woke up with lockjaw.

 

He could practically smell the vodka oozing out of his own musty skin, the worst he’s probably ever smelled since his nappy days. He was gagging as he pulled on a sweatshirt. If he ever wondered what a decaying homeless person smelled like, he knew now.

 

Zayn smelled and looked shower clean, fresh clothes and everything. Based off his text messages, he had to have just fell asleep not too long ago.

 

As it looked like Zayn wasn’t moving out of his coma anytime soon, Liam took the opportunity to get out before he woke back up, falling over himself to get clothes on before ripping off the dirty bed sheet and high-tailing it into the hallway.

 

His face was _pulsing._ Especially his chin, stinging like he’d been slapped around in his sleep throughout the day.

 

He didn’t want anyone, including himself, to get a glimpse at his swollen face so he wore dark sunglasses and a hat over his matted hair and he probably looked like a lunatic. The hall didn’t have much activity but dim lights on the friz, flickering in a manner that could for sure induce an epileptic seizure and it didn’t help his migraine at all.

 

As he huddled into himself and crab walked down the hall and turned the corner, _Harry_ stepped out of the lift and froze when he saw Liam.

 

There was no way he didn’t recognise who he was despite his attempt to be incognito with his dark shades and baseball cap.

 

After staring at each other for a few seconds, Liam bunched up Zayn’s soiled sheets in his arms and sped walk off in the opposite direction to take the stairs.

 

Harry called out a name behind him a few times, _(Leo? There was no way Liam was responding to fucking LEO)_ but, he pretended like he hadn’t heard.

 

He just needed a safe place to clear his head and home wasn’t it.

 

The stairs were exhausting. His head was _splitting_ by the time he’d got through one flight, so bad he genuinely didn’t think he would make it another two without falling as he gripped the railing for dear life.

 

He could feel so much of his brain jiggling around in his skull that he wouldn’t have been surprised if brain matter actually trickled out of his ear like pool water if he were to tilt his head sideways. But he powered through it until he was outside where the sunlight could attack his head some more, the throbbing turning his head into a second heartbeat.

 

Coming outside was a mistake but there was no going back now.

 

The way he threw the sheet in the dumpster behind his building looked like he was getting rid of a body. Any witnesses that might’ve saw didn’t have an opinion about it. Another great thing about New Yorkers - they were the most jaded people that walked planet Earth.

 

Suspicious activity in a dark alley near you? Just walk on by.

 

He knew he was technically still drunk and would be in pain for the next 24 hours but, this day needed hydration and a loaded gun to put himself out of his misery. Except one problem: he left his wallet upstairs.

 

No worries. There was a fire hydrant somewhere around here he was sure he could knock off. Or beg a stranger like a homeless. Maybe even turn to theft. The options of desperation were overflowing.

 

Dying in the street was an option ahead of going back up to his room and facing Zayn.

 

Deciding it was most likely a bad idea to possibly kill himself and others if he attempted to drive his car right now, he decided he’d walk two blocks around the corner to his favourite falafel guy to get himself food and a drink but, he didn’t have any cash on him either and he wasn’t even able to get any further than a few hundred feet before he was on the brink of collapsing in the park.

 

The less walking, the better because he was having enough difficulty with simply standing.

 

He didn’t remember passing out on a park bench in Cadman Plaza across the street from Mac or spending the entire rest of the afternoon in a coma outside.

 

Jaded New Yorkers that had seen it all just walked on by. Not a single person bothered to see if he was alive until hours later.

 

The next thing he remembered was the blurry face in front of him when his eyes cracked back open.

 

“You awake, pal?” A thick Jersey accent asked him. “‘Cause you can’t sleep out ‘ere.”

 

It was dark out, and cold… and he was about to be arrested. He looked up at the uniformed black guy in front of him with panic.

 

It was a cop.

 

Liam sits back up slowly.

 

_“Wha…”_

 

Looking around, he had no idea where he was or how he’d got out here.

 

_“Where--”_

 

“You been drinkin’ today, pal?”

 

The flashlight in Liam’s eyes burned as he yelped and covered his face.

 

 _“OW!”_ Liam pulled his face away. He wanted to tell him he wasn’t his “pal” and to get that fucking light out of his face.

 

“No, I haven’t! _Christ…_ will you turn that off!?”

 

He clicked it off with an annoyed roll of his eyes. Even the park rangers were jaded as fuck.

 

“I’m gonna need you to stand up and walk a straight line for me right now and show some I.D.”

 

 _Could_ he do that?

 

The good thing Liam knew was 1) he had not been drinking this evening and 2) if he had, there aren’t any public intoxication laws in New York so he wouldn’t be breaking the law regardless.

 

But he couldn’t vouch for being underaged and probably having high amounts of alcohol still in his system as he hasn’t gone to a toilet or puked nearly enough to get it all out today.

 

Liam held his head that was still sore and the officer pulled back with a sour face.

 

Liam gets it. He smells like someone dropped a deuce on him.

 

He took several steps back so Liam could stand but the wooden bench has the feeling in his legs numb and walking looked like he was still drunk because he couldn’t feel his damn feet. He sat back down as his face crumbled.

 

“I’m sorry, I can’t but I haven’t been drinking today, I _swear,_ please don’t arrest me!” He started crying immediately.

 

He couldn’t be arrested in a foreign country. He has no one to call. No one to bail him out of jail.

 

He had… no one.

 

This realisation made him cry even more. Park ranger was more disturbed by this than anything else today.

 

 **_“Yo, hold up!_ ** _”_

 

The both looked up towards the loud voice coming from the building behind them as a guy almost gets hit by a car as he ran out across the street straight over to Liam and the officer.

 

The ranger guy threw his hands up when he saw him. Now that Liam got a good look, this officer didn’t look too much older than him, maybe in his mid-twenties at the very most.

 

“Zayn, what the hell are you doin’?”

 

Apparently, they knew each other.

 

“This belong to you?” He gestured to Liam like he was some kind of lost dog.

 

_“Yes!!”_

 

Also apparently, Liam belonged to Zayn.

 

_“He’s my roommate!”_

 

“Well get weeping willow the hell outta my park!”

 

Zayn finally made it over to them, almost falling in front of Liam, he was so frantic.

 

“What happened!? Is he _hurt?”_

 

He held Liam’s face in his hands.

 

_“Liam,”_

 

“I dunno why he’s crying _._ I think he shit himself.”

 

Liam had NOT. But Zayn didn’t care either way as he was all over Liam.

 

Zayn crouched in front of him as he smoothed his tears out of his face as Liam was shaking.

 

_“I was so worried about you, why are you out here alone?!?”_

 

Zayn was so angry at him, Liam couldn’t stop the tears then as they all burst out right before he hugged Zayn with his face buried in his chest.

 

He’d never been more relieved to see a complete stranger that didn’t really feel like a stranger anymore.

 

He was literally the only person Liam felt like he knew in this city right now. He couldn’t explain what came over him but seeing Zayn triggered every tear in his body.

 

His crying felt way too over emotional and overexposed like he was standing out here naked. But waking up in a fucked up state, alone and afraid in a foreign place should’ve made him homesick and he couldn’t even get that because that place sucked too.

 

All he felt was insanely lonely. It seemed like the only person who understood how to cure that, was Zayn.

 

Zayn just held him despite everything without even needing a reason for why Liam needed to be held right now.

 

Last night, Zayn needed consoling. Now, it was Liam’s turn.

 

_“I’m sorry--”_

 

 _“It’s okay,”_ Zayn shushed him. _“Liam, it’s okay.”_

 

 _“I hurt everywhere.”_ He hiccuped.

 

 _“I know and_ **_I’m_ ** _sorry I did that,”_ Zayn stands up with him.

 

 _“So let’s go home, yeah?”_ He nods in front of Liam, wiping his eyes. _“I’ll take care of you.”_

 

From the way he looked him in the eye, he knew he meant it and there was nothing Liam would rather do right now than let Zayn take care of him.

 

He tells him his legs hurt and the next thing he knew, Zayn crouched down below and hiked Liam on his back and it actually made him hiccup on a laugh this time.

 

_“What are you doing!?”_

 

 _“Something I’m already regretting.”_ Zayn puffed under his weight when he bumped Liam up higher so he’d get the memo to hold on tighter.

 

“Jesus... the fuck do you _eat?_ Bricks??”

 

_“I can show you better than I can tell you.”_

 

“If that’s supposed to be some kind of dirty joke, keep it to yourself.”

 

It suddenly felt like they’d done this all before. Not just last night. Like this was something they did all the time.

 

Nothing could be this easy.

 

Behind them as they were leaving the park, the officer yelled out,

 

_“Put a leash on him the next time he leaves the house, Malik. And stop leaving your shit lying around in my park!”_

 

 _“Fuck you too, Abdul.”_ He waved a lazy peace sign above his head without looking back.

 

“And fuck _you_ for scaring me like that.” He added for Liam.

 

Liam’s red nose burrowed into the hood of Zayn’s jacket as he smiled, wondering why he ever would’ve wanted to run away from him.

 

There was absolutely nothing to run from here.

 

“It's been like 7 hours.” Zayn says as he carries him up the stairs,

 

“I thought you died or something.”  
  
  
_“Believe me, I wanted to.”_  
  
  
“Why didn't you return my 200 phone calls? Seriously, I’ve been looking for you all night!”

 

He wished he could see Zayn’s face when he said that. Something about his voice made Liam quake inside _._ _  
_ _  
_ _  
_ _“I lost my phone.”_ Liam mumbles into his back.

 

“Why did you _leave?”_

 

Liam really didn’t know why or how he’d managed to get this far away in the first place.

 

_“I've never felt so horrible, I didn’t know what to do.”_

 

“Well we’re mates for a reason. Next time, TELL ME when you’re dying and say goodbye when you leave me.”

 

His choice of words was really weird to Liam. He couldn’t explain why but, Zayn demanding that he tell him when he was leaving _him_ instead of just leaving in general… it made Liam feel funny inside.

 

He didn’t want to leave Zayn. And he didn’t want Zayn thinking he would either.  
  
_  
_ _“I won’t.”_ He promised. _“I won’t leave you.”_

 

His grip on Liam’s inner thigh loosened a little, like Liam could feel him relaxing from the inside out finally.

 

_“... thank you.”_

 

That was the moment they agreed to never go ghost on each other ever again without communicating that they were still alive - the first rule they ever made.

 

If you can’t count on anyone, at least a roommate could be there care if you ever come back home alright.

 

Zayn didn’t even care about last night as he didn’t mention it once. All he cared about was finding Liam _._

 

Zayn disappearing for weeks at a time never happened again after he’d left Liam wondering nonstop. Liam disappearing for an entire day without a phone call or note never happened again when it left the heart in Zayn’s chest in full-on panic at the disco.

 

It had slowly settled inside Liam who’s back he was on as a chain link of events lined up in his memory from 2 weeks ago when he first saw Zayn passed out in class to seeing his back _just_ leave their building everyday when Liam was arriving, to this moment, right now after their every role has been reversed.

 

He was left speechless being the punchline of this cosmic joke. Then he got to his room and the joke continued to punch him in the face.

 

He leaned against the door frame in his sparkly diva glasses with his arms crossed, staring down at Zayn unlocking the door as his emotion had just finally died down only to for it to flare up _again_ when they both got another surprise in their room.

 

First of all, the place was spotlessly cleaned up again in the exact way Liam would’ve cleaned their room. All his stuff put in the right places on his side and vice versa and he instantly knew that regardless of every imaginable difference, they were going to get along famously for this alone.

 

Until he saw the naked blonde chick hanging out in Zayn’s equally naked bed and took back everything.

 

There were many shrieks as Zayn covered his ears and screamed at both Liam and the beautiful girl draped over his bed to shut _up_ as she was snatching her dress off the floor to cover herself.

 

 _“Shit,”_ He covered his face like he’d forgot he had someone in here and Liam stepped into the room and slowly took off his shades with his mouth hung open as he stared in _awe._

 

 _“You’re… you’re… you’re…”_ He couldn’t even form her name in his mouth.

 

Delilah Parillo… _runway model._

 

“What the hell Zayn?!” She complains as she stands up with her hands on her hips after pulling on her yellow dress.

 

“I take it you didn’t get my Chinese.”

 

“I got… sidetracked.” He sighs, walking over to his wardrobe and rummaging through it for something.

 

“You need to go. You can pick it up yourself.”

 

“Who the hell is he!?”

 

 _“You’re Delilah Parillo.”_ Liam said finally but Zayn talked over him,

 

“He’s my _roommate.”_

 

He stood back up with a water canister and went over to drag her out with him, repeating to her that she needed to _leave_.

 

As they left the room, Zayn shoved the canister in Liam’s hands and told him to drink it.

 

Liam, being his nosy self, quickly went behind the door to eavesdrop.

 

 _“Look, I can call you an uber,”_ Zayn offered but, Delilah scoffed at the suggestion.

 

_“Do you take me for some kind of hooker?”_

 

 _No._ Liam thought. _He takes you as this year's newest Victoria’s Secret ANGEL._

 

They argued in the hallway for a few minutes as Zayn convinced her that he really needed to take care of this and that he’d call later.

 

Liam creaked the door open a little to catch a glimpse of them talking closely when their voices got too low to hear anymore. She had a pout on her face with her arms crossed, trying not to smile at whatever he was saying to her until it finally broke across her face when he nuzzled her neck, coaxing her to drop her arms finally and drape around his broad shoulders.

 

Her body jolted as she let out a loud wail that broke off into giggles when he tickled her and he ate her neck.

 

Liam shut the door then with rolled eyes, shaking his head to himself as he paced back and forth in their room.

 

This was _crazy._ He’s just helped someone cheat on and lie to his girlfriend and now he had to LIVE with him.

 

He was a homewrecker in his own home. Delilah was the other woman in her own relationship.

 

Zayn was… Liam didn’t know what Zayn was in this.

 

He didn’t know if he should stay or run. But he knew he wasn’t about to drink what Zayn gave him because it smelled like rotten vegetables. He put it back on Zayn’s bed and went to get out of his stinking clothes and scrub down his skin with a towel, sickeningly embarrassed that Zayn smelled him at his very _worst_.

 

Zayn finally came back into the room after Liam was changed, sitting on his own bed and in the middle of having an existential crisis.

 

The silence was too thick. Not even a sword could slice through it as they stared at each other without Zayn saying a word at the door as he locked it.

 

There really wasn’t anything to say right now. Liam didn’t know if he was disgusted with himself, scared all over again from not knowing what was going to happen next or strangely turned on by the thought of them continuing whatever this was.

 

Zayn walked over to his own bed after a while, kicking off his shoes and taking off his jacket as he stared Liam down the entire time. No smirking this time or narrowing his eyes or any sort of give away to what he was thinking as they sat facing each other in opposite beds and waited.

 

“Still got a headache?”

 

Liam nodded once. It was nowhere near as bad as this morning. Just slightly uncomfortable, like a stuffed nose. But he’d live.

 

Zayn shook his can in front of him a few times.

 

“It’ll go away after a quick nap if you drink this. Flush your system in the bathroom. I usually take the nap at 8 AM.”

 

When Liam didn’t say anything or laugh at his attempt at making this less awkward, Zayn snorted and put it down, looking at the ground for a moment before reaching back and taking out that infamous flask to sip from and Liam finally spoke again.

 

“How can you still drink that stuff?”

 

Something told him Zayn’s hangovers didn’t last longer than a few minutes of napping.

 

“Easier than injecting it.” Zayn shrugged as he took another swig and Liam blinked, carefully processing the implication.

 

“Are you telling me you're an _addict?”_ _  
_

 

“Why?” Zayn tilted his head, letting his flask dangle over his lap.

 

“Can’t live with a junkie?”

 

_Did he really just...--_

 

Liam shook his head slowly.

 

“Well, lucky for you I’m an alcoholic.” Zayn smiled.

 

“Can't live with one of them either, London?”

 

“I can’t _drink_ with ‘one of them’.”

 

“I didn’t ask you too.”

 

“No. Just shoved it down my throat all at once and gagged me with it. No big deal.” Liam nodded.

 

Zayn laughed as he took another swig, quirking his eyebrows once. After a deep exhale, he nodded, looking down at the flask then replied with complete sincerity,

 

“Yeah… I did. And I’m sorry.”

 

He prodded his flask with a frown, genuine remorse seeping through his tone like a crack in a pipe. And Liam frowned too, seeing this particular crack in one of Zayn’s walls.

 

Liam could tell he was not the kind of person who said sorry very often. He was the kind of person that took actions over words and felt a lot of guilt. Possibly even beat himself up today for never getting the chance to make it up to Liam in person.

 

He had a vague memory of this expression of Zayn’s and it said a lot about his character.

 

But he didn’t purposeful poison his body. If Liam didn’t want it, he wouldn’t have stayed with him all night long.

 

“Apology accepted.”

 

Zayn looks up at him with raised brows.

 

“We both got carried away.” Liam shrugged a little. “Whatever. I forgive you.”

 

“Can I ask you something now?”

 

Liam nodded with a smile, waiting.

 

“What the hell happened to my bedsheets?”

 

_……_

 

His mind drew a blank for a few seconds too long.

 

“I... threw them away.”

 

"I noticed." Zayn smiled.

 

He didn't know if that meant he'd seen Liam throw up on them and lay around naked in them or what. His smirk felt like it could mean anything.

 

“You got a bone to pick with Egyptian cotton or you just didn’t like my colour scheme? _”_

 

_Great. He doesn't know._

 

“I'll buy you new ones.” He said instead of lying and Zayn nodded.

 

“I _know_ you will. Fucking against a mattress was very uncomfortable.”

 

Speaking of which… Liam is reminded of the one detail about Zayn he found extremely distasteful. And also a great opportunity to change the subject.

 

Since they were currently going over the terms of their housing situation, he figured he should just ask everything now if they were really getting to know each other.

 

“Do you cheat on your girlfriend regularly or was yesterday's marathon of flings just a spur of the moment thing?”

 

“I haven't got a girlfriend.” Zayn shook his head, glossing over the last bit of Liam’s question.

 

“I met Delilah outside of a restaurant downtown an _hour_ ago. I'll probably never see that girl on this side of town ever again.”

 

Out of _everything_ he could’ve said at the moment _,_ there was not anything more perfect to piss Liam off and assure him that they couldn’t live together. He didn’t know what made him angrier.

 

The fact that in the short space of thinking Liam was dead, Zayn still went out to eat with his friends, picked up a random supermodel off the streets of Manhattan, brought her _back_ to his place, saw that Liam had still not re-emerged and _still_ fucked her in their room in less than an hour.

 

If he’d been looking for Liam, he sure couldn’t tell.

 

But what really pissed Liam off the most was the fact that he told her he’d call later with absolutely no intention of _ever_ doing so, something Liam already had a suspicion someone like Zayn did. The kind of guy that hangs around until he finally gets to fuck and then does a disappearing act like fucking Houdini.

 

There wasn’t anyone Liam hated more than _that_ guy.

 

Now that he just confirmed it, Liam knew he did that to people regularly after hooking up with them which means if Liam had not _happened_ to be totally unavoidable, it would’ve been the same thing with him after he promised he’d see him again. As if he needed more validation for being glad he didn’t hop on Zayn’s dick last night and let him paint the walls of his internal organs when he had the chance.

 

“So you lied.” Liam concluded in less than 5 seconds and Zayn pulled a confused face.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Liam stood up and paced over to the desk with his arms crossed.

 

“You didn’t ever think you would see me again did you?”

 

Zayn’s eyes roll to the side slowly like he didn't know what Liam was talking about.

 

“... I thought the probability of it was very _unlikely_ \--”

 

Liam laughed, beside himself.

 

“Well at least you’re honest now!”

 

Raising his voice makes him wince when his head twinges in the middle painfully. At the same time, it hit him that Zayn might not even _remember_ what happened last night.

  
  
“First of all _mate,_ ” Zayn stood up now. “I didn't lie to you. I also didn’t have to scrape your stubborn ass off that bench and if you yell at me like that again, I swear to God your eye’s gonna match that mark on your _chin_.”

 

Alarmed by his threat, Liam scurried to their desk to look in the mirror and he shrieked at the sight of his chin.

 

It was black and blue with a bruise that was perfectly shaped like Zayn’s ballsack.

 

“OH MY GOD!”

 

It was the most obscene thing he’d ever saw on his body and that was really saying something.

 

Some boys left hickeys, others pounded your face with a personalised stamp.

 

Thinking of how many people saw this today didn’t bother him as much as it did to think about what the people at the gallery were gonna think of him when he pulls up with what looks like fucking herpes of the mouth.

 

He turned to Zayn laughing behind him and angrily threw his pillow in his direction, which Zayn easily dodged as he ducked out of the way with his hands up.

 

“Did I think I was ever gonna see you again after we left that party? I don’t know! That’s the thing about where we live, Liam. You don’t know who you’re gonna run into or who’s right around the corner. Whether it’s an ex, a crook waiting to rob you, a distant relative or your fucking roommate!” He gets back into the topic at hand.

 

“This is a massive city. We sat two feet away from each other every single day and it took how many weeks to meet face to face? We’re more likely to be struck by lighting than running into the same stranger twice in the same week. There’s damn near 9 million fucking people in New York. The chance of _this_ happening…”

 

Okay so he does remember and just as Liam thought, this was going to end badly. Better to simplify things before it does.

 

Liam put his hands up as he walked over to the phone hanging by the door, done with this entire situation as he intended to call their RA.

 

“Look, there's a single like two floors up.” He started dialling the number. “I can talk to the super or whoever and move out if this is going to be a problem to you --”

 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold the phone.” Zayn jumped in front of him and snatched the phone out of his hand, hanging up before it could ring.

 

“Who the hell said anything about _moving out?”_

 

“I think you’ve made it pretty clear you don’t like seeing the same person every day. Especially if your dick has been inside them--”

 

“Jesus!” Zayn cringed as he covered his eyes. “Are you always this _crude?_ I said I didn't THINK I'd ever see you again. That doesn't mean I didn't _want_ to.”

 

“What the hell does that even mean?”

 

“Liam, I _can't_ live alone. Okay?”

 

His tone was bordering on desperate and so was his breathing and Liam saw the same look of fear in his eye he had downstairs when he found him laid out on a bench in tears.

 

This time, his fears were abundantly clear. The idea of Liam leaving him, _terrified_ him.

 

Or at least, the idea of being here alone did. He wasn’t sure of which one it was exactly. Maybe a bit of both.

 

They went silent again as they stared at each other, Liam now noticing how up in each other’s faces they’d got. Again. Only this time, Zayn didn’t back away to give him space.

 

“It means I'm glad I found you.”

 

Zayn answered the question and there it was. A single phrase that changed everything.

 

Except Liam didn’t know that at the time.

 

What he did know was… he agreed.

 

Despite all the doubts and panic he’d flown through within the last 24 hours, from being on the rooftop and refusing to kiss him to standing before him in their room and threatening to leave again, one thing he was certain of.

 

Deep down, he hoped Zayn would find him again. And he was glad he did.

 

Maybe that’s why he didn’t run too far away.

 

“Okay.”

 

“Okay?” Zayn repeated, crossing his arms.

 

“Okay what? Be specific.”

 

Liam laughed, looking away from him after he pushed Zayn out of his face, Zayn smiling as he stumbled back.

 

 _“Okay_ I won’t move out if you don’t want me to!”

 

“Now I’m not the only one that matters in this situation.” Zayn made clear. “If _you_ got a problem, you can go. I’m not tryna like… hold you hostage--”

 

“I don’t _‘got a problem’_ .” Liam mocked the way he ‘twalks’ _._

 

“Do you _‘got’_ a problem?”

 

“I think I’ve made myself _vivid.”_

 

“Okay then.”

 

_“Okay then.”_

 

They stood there, giving each other looks like they were waiting for someone make another remark they could fight about… but the fighting just turned into laughter, every single time.

 

Out of all the bad things he saw in hanging out with Zayn, one thing seemed to overshadow them above all: He found someone that could make him laugh.

 

Zayn backed away with a snort and took the cigarette out from behind his ear to dangle between his lips.

 

“You don’t mind if I smoke in here, do you?”

 

If it were anyone else, Liam would’ve said yes, 100%. He could not live with a smoker… _if it were anyone else._

 

Instead of saying that he thought smoking was fucking disgusting and if he was gonna do it, then he needed to go outside at least a mile away, Liam joined him. After the amount of stress he’d gone through today, he needed something to take the edge off and liquor wasn’t it this time around.

 

“Please tell me you have another one of those.”

 

He did. Liam followed him to his bed where he got out a whole, brand new pack. Full tar, too. The old school kind that’s as cancerous as it is addictive as it sinks combustible biochemicals in your lungs, banned everywhere in America except for New York.

 

As he watched Zayn by the window and blew smoke through the blinds, he could feel something between them seeping deeper into him and it wasn’t smoke.

 

Zayn’s smiling eyes had a hook attached to them and Liam was already snagged on.

 

Turns out, Zayn was totally wrong last night. He saw Liam and, for the first and only time, took the chance to have a drink with him because he thought they’d never get the chance to return to a moment like that again.

 

As the universe wanted it, they _would_ be getting that chance. Every single night. And many more moments that would bring them closer approaching soon.

 

Zayn finally got Liam to drink his home remedy and it actually turned out to be pretty good, some juicing recipe he learned how to make in high school that had Liam on the toilet for an hour.

 

Liam put on file that Zayn has needed to know how to flush out highly dangerous amounts of hard liquor since at least high school.

 

Zayn’s addiction should’ve been a red flag in his prospects of being a the kind of person Liam should be spending so much of his time with. But his pros seriously outweighed the cons, more than just the fact that he was something nice to look at every day.

 

While Zayn was a little destructive and eagerly helped fuel really bad habits in Liam with all the enthusiasm in the world (like Liam getting plastered and wasting the entire day, smoking and raising his blood pressure from all the tension between them), he also knew how to fix whatever mess he made and clean up after himself just as smooth, i.e. keeping their room clean and taking care of Liam everytime he went too far.

 

He’d made his remedy that morning specifically for Liam but, he never got the chance to give it to him because he fled from the premises as soon as he was conscious enough to.

 

Too desperate to even check his face in the mirror before walking around in public with a shiner from their brawl in the closet.

 

Zayn didn’t say that last part but, he implies it several times. Every time he looks at Liam when he stares at his mark on his chin like it was some marked territory, it’s all over his face he’s thinking about doing it all over again. It makes Liam briefly wonder if he did it with a smile last night.

 

Liam never got what it was about guy with massive dicks. Always needing to draw attention to them like walking around and saying to everyone they pass by, _‘Hey, look what I got!’_ as they swang it back and forth _._ Or maybe that was just Liam projecting his own thoughts whenever he seen a bulge like Zayn’s that made his mouth water.

 

Now, Liam could make that announcement for Zayn because the bruise was _huge,_ his entire chin blemished from cheek to cheek.

 

Liam realised Zayn was never going to let him live down the hickey on his face. He felt embarrassed that it as still there but, Zayn promised he’d stop pointing and laughing.

 

Just to make sure they were on the same page as much as possible, instead of listing their pros and cons, Zayn made rules about what was acceptable and unacceptable in this room.

 

They were side by side in Zayn’s naked bed as they compiled the list together on a chalkboard.

 

**_Rule #1: No laughing at Liam’s ballsack tattoo._ **

 

That one lasted for as long as it was there all week. The next rule was no smoking in their room but, they’d already broken it.

 

Any rule they didn’t think of that got added temporary would be filed under ‘unsaved info’.

  
  
“So we agree that we like each other?”

 

It was a rhetorical question but, Liam just wanted everything to be out there now as he added that to the unsaved information box.

 

“Because I can't live with someone that doesn't like me. Been there, done that.”

 

“You’ve had a roomie before?”

 

Liam had in boarding school but, he was referring to every kid’s _original_ roommates.

 

“Yes, I’ve had parents before.”

 

Zayn laughed with his eyes closed.

 

 _“Liam._ I’m not your father. _”_ He addressed him with a smile as his eyes were pointed at the board.

 

“And I think it's pretty obvious that I like you.”

 

He’s already said that at least 2 or 3 times since last night. Liam just liked hearing it.

 

“I don't make a habit of bringing smelly hobos up from the park to sleep my bed because I'm a model citizen.”

 

Liam nodded with a flat smile right before he stuck his middle finger right in Zayn’s face that he pushed away so he could focus on the board, laughing silently.

 

“Thanks for taking care of me.” He said after he’d laughed, trying not to sound too cheesy but genuinely wanting to thank Zayn.

 

“Don’t mention it. Least I can do for fucking you up in the first place.”

 

“No, you didn't force anything down my throat.” He backtracked on that one. “I mean, not anything I didn't _want_.”

 

He paused, unable to stop the gag before they were both laughing again as Zayn started hitting him in the shoulder for another dirty joke.

 

_“I swear I didn’t mean it that time!”_

 

Zayn rolled his eyes, settling back down.

 

“Seriously. You rescued me from having my brains splattered on a _bench_ . You said thank you’s don’t mean anything to you and I want to repay you properly.”    
  
  
“Well… my birthdays in a few days if you wanna buy me a present.”

 

That was pleasantly surprising. Liam looked over at him with a smile.

 

“How old are you?”

 

“I am _not_ old.” Zayn corrected. “I am worldly. And wise. I haven't aged since I was born so, I'm also immortal.”

 

“Are you Dracula?”

 

“I'm 20.”

 

Older guy _. Very_ nice _._

 

“Unfortunately, 21 keeps escaping my grasp. I'll stop getting older after my 21st next year.”

 

“I'll remember to remind you of that on your 30th.”

 

Zayn looked over at him with one eye squinted closed as a sceptical snort escaped his nose.

 

“You think you'll still know me in 10 years? At the rate we're going, neither of us is making it to 25.”

 

"We will." He laughed.

 

"Will what? Grow old or know each other."

 

"Both."

 

"What makes you so sure?"

 

Liam squinted back at him with the same expression.

 

“A gut feeling.”

 

They narrowed their eyes like how cats do when they size each other up until Zayn nodded with a smile finally.

 

“I agree.”

 

Liam knew he would. He’d already felt like they'd known each other before they even met.

 

Usually, having a strange person in your room set off alarms just because that’s a natural reaction to having your personal space invaded. The entire concept of making a stranger your roommate was a risky practise.

 

Being in their room at the same time together for the first time ever didn’t feel any less homely than the weeks before, if not _more_.

 

The sound of another living person here, hearing someone else breathing made Liam relax. Having Zayn near him made him warm inside. Someone that cared if he went out and got hit by a bus and never came back.

 

It didn’t feel like Zayn was in _his_ room or that Liam was in _Zayn’s_ bed. It was just… theirs. And they were completely comfortable together.

 

Somehow, he knew he’d still know the next version of Zayn in 10 years. Sometimes you just know when you meet someone you’ll know for the rest of your life.  
  
  
“What do you want for your birthday?”

 

Liam underlined this unsaved info across the chalkboard for the week ahead so he’d remember.

 

“I want to be a good roommate. Even though you have been _shit._ ”

 

“Oh that’s how you talk to the guy who saved your life like 500 times in one day?”

 

Liam closed his eyes for a long moment with a grin before he turned his head to Zayn’s and looked him in the eye. Their faces were right on each other, Liam close enough to see that Zayn had faint freckles spread across the bridge of his nose the same way he does on his lovely long legs.

 

Even his imperfections were perfect.

 

Slower this time, he asked him again.

 

_“What do you want for your birthday?”_

 

Staring matches with Zayn were very intense and Liam would soon know he’d always be the first one to look away. He wasn’t sure if this was because Zayn was too pretty to just openly gaze at up close or because Liam was too shy.

 

He was just the kind of person that looked like he wouldn’t blink even if he got dirt thrown into his eyes and something about that was hauntingly sexy.

 

He might have been a different person at a party but Zayn’s eyes were still just as wild and up for anything as he was. He looked down the the bruise on Liam’s mouth again with a slight smirk after promising he wouldn’t stare anymore.

 

Before anything happens as he feels their faces getting closer by the second, Liam looked away, back to the drawing board.

 

“So nothing.” He nodded, clicking the board repeatedly. “That’s easy to remember.”

 

“Surprise me.”

 

“With what? Dinner and a drink? My soul? A book? I don’t know what you want or like.”

 

_A blowjob._

 

“Give me some options.”

 

_Blowjobs._

 

Liam’s mind was really in the gutter now.

 

_Why wasn’t he saying anything??_

 

Zayn finally changed the subject after making Liam panic through conversation on his own.

  
  
“Make it a good one if you're gonna buy me a fucking book for being born.” He finally looked away from Liam, crossing out his question at the top of the board and Liam instantly missed his full attention. He also needed to get out of this bed because he was burning up a sweat storm.  
  
  
Liam got up from bed and skipped over to their desk while Zayn followed with his gaze.

 

“There's an artist I work for that's having a new gallery opening in Manhattan in a few days with a tonne of brand new installations. Wine tasting, pretty pictures, social networking, etcetera.” He starts to explain while Zayn comes over to read the brochure over Liam’s shoulder.

 

“Maybe people you can give your business card too? There’ll be a tonne of students. Someone might be interested in a tutor.”

 

“I used the paper.”

 

“Who reads newspapers?”

 

“New Yorkers.”

 

The grimace on his face when he read the program looked mildly disgusted.

 

“You want me to stand around with a bunch of yuppies in an art museum drinking wine on my birthday?”

 

His lips flattened in disinterest.

 

“Sounds very _gay_.”

 

Liam bent forward as he laughed, shaking his head at him and his casual, political incorrectness.

 

“There’s more than just _wine_ there. It’s just a suggestion if you weren’t doing anything special…. and I'm sure you wouldn't mind having a drink with me again anyways.”

 

Zayn shrugged, going back to his bed.

 

“Whatever. Take me wherever you want, I don’t care. Anywhere someone's clinking glasses, I'll gladly attend.”

 

“So next week on your birthday… you'll turn 20 to the sound of our glasses clinking together.”

 

Zayn looked back at him with that smirk again.

 

“To the Clink.”  

 

It was the kind of promise that seemed more like a threat.

 

As Liam went to his side of the room and began marking the calendar above his bed for next week.

 

Each time he’d look up after forgetting someone else was in the room now, Zayn would be there, watching him with that threatening smile as he read his book. Waiting.

 

Even getting out reading material of his own and going on with their separate activities, he could feel them both waiting in the same question.

 

_When were they going again?_

 

The tension in this room could set fire to the building.

 

“You know, I liked your suggestion before.” Zayn said, out of nowhere long after they’d ended the discussion.

 

Liam didn’t look up from being engrossed in his book.

 

“What suggestion?” He turned the page.

 

“Your gift to repay me.” Zayn elaborated.

 

“Your soul. I’ll take that.”

 

Liam didn’t miss a beat. He knew exactly what he was talking about but he played along just the same.

 

“Do you take credit or cash?”

 

When he didn’t answer, Liam glanced over at him and the smile on his face was so impossible to guess what he was thinking about that it made Liam rush with a little excitement for what it could be. More specifically, if it meant the same thing Liam wanted it to mean.

 

Nothing was more fascinating than a mysterious boy with so much to explore and discover about him.

 

And by fascinating, Liam meant attractive.

 

“I think Dracula takes his victim’s payment by neck.” He finally answered as he went back to his book.

 

“But I’m not too picky.”

 

“You want it now or later?”

 

“Whenever you wanna give it to me, sweetheart.”

 

The way he said it definitely had a wink attached but Liam didn’t look up to check as his face was on fire.

 

It was a pretty lewd conversation but somehow he didn’t make it dirty. Unless you count Zayn asking for Liam’s neck as dirty. The fact that it still made Liam’s throat burn hot with so little just made him that much more excited.

 

He knew what Zayn was doing with the silent staring and ambiguous smirks now.

 

He knew Liam was afraid of him still on some level and he was going to play it out for all it was worth, because it was worth _plenty_.

 

Fear made Liam rush with adrenaline. Adrenaline made both of them skip the slow burn and build into a mad dash into each other. Ending in each other was just a matter of when and where this time and neither of them revealed an answer just yet, the anticipation making him hard just thinking about it.

 

He was certain Zayn was going to destroy him. Which was good for Liam because that was exactly what he wanted Zayn to do.

 

**_✯✯✯_ **

 

Zayn’s birthday was a particularly drunken evening. The real drinking didn’t start until 3 AM but they had a lot of fun in the hours before then.

 

“How should I dress?”

 

Liam told him anything that went with his face. Which could’ve been a fucking banana suit if he fancied it and no one would’ve noticed because nothing would look bad on him.

 

He wore a striped, brown suit jacket over a white button up instead of plaid. The jacket came down to his ankles like a robe over these really old looking, brown corduroy smart pants topped it off with a navy blue bow-tie. He looked pretty adorable. And actually got a haircut too.

 

The way he gelled his quiff back with his attire made him look like an Edwardian Teddy Boy and Liam thought he was the perfect birthday boy in his cool tones.

 

Even dressed so cool, he was still too hot. Liam made sure he knew that, gassing him up all evening.

 

Liam even made him pose for a picture before they left for his birthday dinner downtown and while he did, he refused to smile. But Liam didn’t mind because he smiled before and after when Liam raved about how adorable he was.

 

It was a pretty hefty dinner party, full of model girls like Perrie and Jade and other friends of Leigh and Jesy, random neighbours of theirs from Mac Hall that Liam had invited and Harry and his band along with their plus ones.

 

Liam and Harry ended up making the reservation and organising the guest list because if it were up to Zayn, there wouldn’t have been a celebration of any kind.

 

He seemed pretty nervous throughout most of the night, always fidgeting with himself distractedly or bouncing his knee and staring down at his broken watch. He didn’t talk much when they were surrounded by other people even if it was a pretty intimate setting. Liam got on with his friends better than he did and Liam didn’t understand what was wrong. Not even Leigh-Anne or Jesy knew why he was so wired. It didn't even feel like a birthday dinner. It was easy to forget that Zayn was there at all but, he was always sitting there at the front of Liam's mind even if he disappeared from everyone else's.

 

He noticed Zayn didn’t drink any alcohol with any of his food. Non-alcoholic juice and water and while he found that very surprising, it also made him a little proud for some reason. Zayn was trying not to drink so much and he was doing a pretty good job as far as Liam could tell. But this was only the first half of the night.

 

After 12 PM, they all split up with Liam and Zayn going uptown to make it a little late to the gala after barely being able catch a cab from downtown. Zayn was always freaked out by the way the steering wheel in Liam’s car was on the right side so, he never drove them anywhere.

 

Liam was fine with walking most of the way. He enjoyed the talks they had when they went on their little walks together even if he was doing most of the talking. Telling Zayn about art history and introducing him to the entire art world turned out to be a lot of fun as he seemed genuinely interested and enjoying himself which is what Liam wanted. According to his friends, Zayn rarely celebrated his birthday too much in the past so he wanted to make this one special.

 

Zayn met all of Liam’s colleagues from the gallery, introducing him to all the young fashion designers he knew. Artists. Student artists. Curators. Socialites. Models _._ And of course, the _auteur,_ iL Divino. He got a few unsolicited numbers in the process that Liam noticed ended up in the trash as soon as they left. Liam got a few too, attached to confident winks. But his stayed in his pocket for safekeeping, filed under _possible dick appointments_ with caution.

 

Fucking an artsy guy was a little risky for Liam right now. While they will focus on you and deliver steady orgasms accordingly, they were boring lovers, unattractive and pretty mediocre in bed. Skater boys would’ve been more his speed because they were effortlessly seductive and even more effortlessly beautiful, uncommitted and would leave room for no conversation for lack of things they had in common. All perfect case scenarios to Liam. But, those boys didn’t come to art museums so, Liam missed their sub-group species of men.

 

Going home with someone this day wasn’t an option when he’d come here with Zayn.

 

He’d later figure out that Zayn has to have a few drinks before he could keep a phone number in his pocket, flirt and engage with anyone he doesn’t already know or even hook-up with them. Any time he accepted either while sober, it was as a courtesy to _them_. But he didn’t stay sober all night. The drunker he got. The more to Liam he clung.

 

No matter who Liam introduced him to, Zayn never strayed very far from him. Eventually hopping into whichever group Liam was in, following behind him and listening attentively each time Liam explained a story behind whatever painting they came across that Zayn found interesting. And listening attentively each time Liam flirted with someone as well that ultimately got scared away whenever Zyn popped up in the circle beside Liam.

 

The wine wasn’t quite doing the trick for Zayn so, they’d emptied his flask by the time they left the after party, 8 fluid ounces and half a blowjob into the night. Half because, Zayn didn’t cum. Liam didn’t know how that always happened. They take a few shots and it ends with Zayn in his mouth the second they get into a dark room.

 

Zayn didn’t call what was inside of his flask vodka. It was “liquid darkness in a clear pool”.

 

_“Poison to the soul I don’t have but a helluva pain killer.”_

 

After a few drinks, Chatty Cathy Zayn was finally here.

 

Even if he didn’t care much for the after effects, Liam getting drunk with him made the habit seem a little less miserable.

 

Zayn and Liam left the afterparty early together at Zayn’s request after they got out of the janitor’s closet.

 

He said he enjoyed the show and everything so, Liam didn’t understand why he wanted to leave. More specifically, why he’d want to leave with Liam when there were so many more models left behind.

 

_“I don’t date models, Liam. I fuck them.”_

 

“So you’re saying you’d rather hang out with me than-- _”_

 

 _“It’s like how you say boys are pistols.”_ He cut Liam off. _“Girls are poisonous. All different kinda poisons that get me int’ all kinda trouble. You’re saving my life here.”_

 

“So poisoning yourself with me is better?” He nodded to his flask at his mouth.

 

Liam couldn’t filter himself asking this as the syrup in the pit of his stomach spoke through him.

 

He wanted to know what pain Zayn was trying to kill inside. It worried him that one day poisoning himself wouldn’t end with just killing his pain. That he’d end up like his Grandad.

 

Zayn lifted the flask between them.

 

 _“That’s different. There’s different types of poisons._ **_This_ ** _poison is my escape.”_

 

He toasted to a phantom in the air in front of them.

 

“I thought partying was your escape.”

 

_“That’s my poison too. Girls and sex, etcetera, etcetera. I have this thing called ‘duality’. Allows things like me to be different things simultaneously. Like the C in Chanel. I’ve got two sides… like two versions of me, you understand?”_

 

Liam nodded although he didn’t think he understood exactly.

 

_“One needs girls, one needs alcohol. I try to find an escape, end up in a trap. Can’t tell em apart cause they get kinda blurry. So I have a go at both. Duality, see? You, me, and poison.”_

 

Liam understood what he was really getting at now. He didn’t think that was the right definition of duality but, he didn’t correct him.

 

He could think of another word that meant the same thing as “duality” that Zayn was _possibly_ trying to get at that he could _probably_ pass for as Liam thought about why he would rather go home with him as he looked at their hands together but, he managed to keep that thought to himself.

 

He did know one thing was slightly influencing this conversation: Both of them knew that everyone at that gala thought they were _together_ (which… technically they were there together but, not in _that_ way). Neither of them corrected anyone who referred to them as their date. He thought Zayn probably figured he wouldn’t ever see them again anyway so, it didn’t matter what they thought.

 

“So… what am I then?” Liam asked where he fit into Zayn’s ‘duality’.

 

He thought he’d give him an easy answer and call him an escape too. Instead, he surprises Liam when he looks at him and says,

 

_“A metaphor.”_

 

Sure, Liam was very drunk but, that sounded like the most beautiful thing anyone had ever called him. He loved being Zayn’s _metaphor._ He never asked a metaphor for what.

 

He can’t remember if he ever asked what he was escaping from and if he did, he can’t remember Zayn’s answer.

 

What he _does_ remember is asking Zayn why he wanted to leave the party if that was his escape. He told Liam that sometimes, he had to escape from the escape itself, and that was where things get tricky.

 

This was probably why Liam has a harder time trying to remember the answers to some of questions. Everything got filed into ‘unsaved info’.

 

Everything with Zayn starts to get tricky the deeper into him you go, turns out. Trickier than even a face-fuck in the dark.

 

 _“These parties around here have no intimacy, Liam Payne.”_ Zayn hiccuped. _“Galas, frat houses, dorm rooms, dinner with your friends… they’re all the same. Parties, parties, parties. Parties of 3s and 50s… I can’t fuckin breathe without catching myself in some kind of party.”_

 

“Parties of twos?” Liam bumped him and Zayn nodded exaggeratedly.

 

_“Parties of two’s too.” He sighed. “I’ve done ‘em all. No matter how many people are crammed into a small space together. We're all sick. I can only stand it after so long.”_

 

Apparently Zayn actually liked intimacy but he could never truly reach the closeness to people he craved. He always ended up pushing them away no matter how many there were.

 

“Why do you push people away?”

 

The answer he’d get from the girls would be that his drinking is what pushed people in his life away. While that might’ve been true, Liam felt like Zayn’s answer held more water.

 

_“So they won’t get sucked in, Liam. It’s in my genogy,”_

 

 _“Your what?”_ Liam squinted at him.

 

 _“My GENEALOGY.”_ Zayn enunciated clearly.

 

_“My fucked up, fuckin’ Crypt genes. Everyone got sucked int’ him. Cursed me.”_

 

Liam had to lean down to Zayn’s mouth again as they talked along the way.

 

The way he mumbled when he reached a certainly impossible level of drunk made it hard to focus on what he was saying because you were too focused on trying to _hear_ it rather than listen carefully.

 

Impossible because if someone who has built up a long running tolerance can _still_ get drunk, they were definitely a few away from the hospital at that point, hence Liam cutting in and taking a few hits for the team.

 

He’d start talking so low, you’d have to lean so close that your ear would be on his mouth to hear his words. He was just rambling aimlessly but, Liam’s comprehension was still mostly intact.

 

Zayn always talked like that when he was drunk, with a heavy tongue because he did loads of code-switching. Kind of like Leigh-Anne. Only, instead of speaking _Spanglish_ , he started talking like an old man. It seemed like that’s who he really was inside sometimes.  

 

Normally, he actively tried not to sound like someone from the slums of Brooklyn. But when he was drunk, his code-switching failed totally and Liam got to hear how he really talked, just slightly slurred.

 

It was a little freaky. It always reminded Liam of what the girls told him about Crypt. Liam always creeped himself out when he thought about the haunting comparison’s to Zayn and his grandad. Like the old man’s spirit was talking through him.

 

They walked through the park and Cadman Plaza and danced through the fountain springs in the ground until they were soaking wet and had to strip off their jackets and loosen their ties. Abdul didn’t bother to chase them away like rodents. He laughed watching the show too.

 

Liam could only see a vague outline of how they got here. Most of it went by in a smear across his brain.

 

Zayn began to tell Liam why he went to parties to meet people he’d purposefully never see again when he left as they were sitting at the fountain.

 

_“See, I usually find myself amongst strangers because I drift here and there trying to forget the sad things that happened to me.”_

 

It was one of his famous movie quotes he had on hand. He used his beatnik voice like he was a greaser from the 50s saying something profound. Liam asked him who said that. Zayn told him Jimmy “Jay” Gatz had.

 

He was telling Liam he’d always went to parties to stay away from home when he was younger as they were dragging each other back to their building.

 

They were soaking wet after playing in the fountain like children with Zayn’s arm slung over Liam’s neck and Liam’s arm around Zayn’s torso while the other hand petted Zayn's stomach because he said he had a tummy ache.

 

He said it started when he was 14. Joining parties. That’s how old he was when he started tutoring college students. It was the clearest memory Zayn ever retained: the first time he tasted vodka. Liam supposed all stories that start like that end sad. The first time he tasted vodka ended badly too.

 

One of Zayn’s students had invited him to a frat party that he had to go to because he didn’t want his best friends, La and Jelena, going alone.

 

“La” was Leigh-Anne, his soul sister.

 

Jelena? His _soulmate_.

 

The girls ended up staying home but, Zayn went anyways and the entire night after his first drink went into a big black hole.

 

All he remembered was that he nearly died.

 

Every single day since, he’s had the same drink. Liam felt nauseous just picturing what happened to him at that party.

 

He was always vague when he talked about his past. He didn't give detailed events about his life that Liam remembered very often. Just ‘sad things’.

 

 _“Knock back a few drinks and forget everything you are and where you came from for a few hours. Think I got that from the old Crypt keeper too. Everybody always got a souvenir from him.”_ He smiled at Liam, who smiled back although on the inside, he was frowning.

 

_“I try to forget that loneliness that exists in my mind that I think he left it behind in me. But these parties just remind me of who I am most of the time. I can’t forget. It amplifies. That loneliness is me.”_

 

Liam’s brows went up as he stared at the ground. That was a heavy one.

 

He asked who said that one. Zayn told him he did, 5 seconds ago.

 

“I had no idea you were such a poet.” Liam pinched his cheek as Zayn was taking his last swig from his flask.

 

 _“Neither did I.”_ He hiccuped again as Liam wiped the drip off his chin.

 

 _“Guess that fuckin’ queer geezer left everything to me, huh?”_ He laughed into Liam’s side and the both toppled over on the steps of their building, which made them both end up laughing.

 

Liam would’ve taken offence to that remark if it were anyone else. But, he knew being queer wasn't an insult to Zayn. Whether he thought his grandad was gay or just an odd ball that stood out in a sea of sheep. Duality and that.

 

Liam never asked which one he really meant. And he never asked about Crypt unless Zayn offered it.

 

They hung out of the steps for a while, listening to the music above their heads as their counterparts partied the night away without them. Liam wondered if any of them knew it was Zayn’s birthday. He could’ve pretended like they were celebrating this day for that reason only but, he enjoyed this here.

 

Just Liam and Zayn facing each other on their brownstone under the influence and vodka and moonlight. It was a simple combination but so very complicated once you saw the inner details.

 

“I bet you’re just like him.” Liam finally said after a while of staring at each other as he pressed the sole of his foot against the bottom of Zayn’s.

 

Zayn pushed back against him.

 

 _“That old man hated my fuckin’ guts Liam.”_ He laughed. _“I remember the first thing I ever heard him say the day we met. He looked at me like this,”_

 

Zayn looked at Liam with a wrinkled nose over a screwed up frown, imitating his grandad’s wrinkly expressions as he pushed his forehead skin together to make waves of creases.

 

_“Then he looks at my mother the same way and says ‘I send you t’ London to get a schm-ju-meh-cation and you bring me back a brownie for a grandson!?’, so fuckin disappointed, I almost apologised. He said he’d disown her. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t even speak when spoken to. So he reaches right at me brings me up t’ him like this,”_

 

He reached for Liam’s shirt collar and yanked Liam forward, scaring him when he’s caught off guard and brought right up to Zayn’s face.

 

_“And he says in my face, ‘What am I gonna do with you? HUH? Tell me the hell I’m ‘spose to do wit a fuckin’--’”_

 

Liam _hated_ the word he’d called him. He can’t even bare to remember it.

 

His eyes were tearing but they were more than sad like last time. They were broken.

 

_“...what happened?”_

 

 _“I ran.”_ Zayn laughed, letting go of Liam as he fell back in the opposite direction.

 

_“I ran until I couldn’t hear his voice anymore, telling me to go back. But we couldn’t go back. There was nothing to go back to. Never one place after my dad left with everything. I ended up on the fire escape below us and I found La.”_

 

Liam remembered Leigh-Anne mentioning that they met in their apartment when they were 5 years old, which made the whole story a little more sickening that he’d started getting traumatised so young.

 

He also had the vague memory of something about his mother going to university in the U.K. in the 90s which would’ve been around the time he was conceived so, he had a feeling Zayn’s dad wasn’t American from the start anyways.

 

He wasn’t really sure where Zayn was originally from at that moment as he seemed to move around with his mother a lot until they settled back here in Brooklyn when he was a child but none of that was the point of focus anymore.

 

Where he ended up seemed like somewhere he had to make a home at out of ancient ruins since the new family was just as screwed up as the former. Just older.

 

Liam was shaking by the time he finished telling another one of his intense stories with the sad endings. It made him sadder that he had to live with that. Drunk assholes pushing all their shit on him until he became one of them.

 

One thing for sure he knew about Zayn’s past: He hated Zayn’s grandad, even if Zayn seemed to love him a lot. He supposes a kid might either have resentment for evil relatives or unhealthy attachments to them in these kinds of situations.

 

He seemed like a toxic waste come to life. Liam was glad he would never be able to meet him.

 

 _“They didn’t look for me.”_ He continued. _“They always left to do whatever so, I stayed with La half the time. Two little kids runnin’ around Crown Heights like we owned the place.”_

 

“Why would…” Liam couldn’t get the question out.

 

_Why would anyone do that to Zayn?_

 

 _“Because I’m a thing people leave behind, Liam Payne.”_ He shrugged with a smile.

 

_“Born like this, one day in September. And I will be forever.”_

 

“I’d never leave you.”

 

Zayn shook his head at Liam when he brushed Zayn’s soaked hair back. He was saying no with his head but he smiled and held Liam’s hands on the steps anyway.

 

_“What am I ‘sposed to do with you, huh?”_

 

Zayn was asking Liam this now and Liam answered by closing the gap, kissing him, practically _falling_ into him until he was holding Liam securely again.

 

Every time they made out, it didn’t feel like they were just kissing. They made out with their entire bodies. He felt like he was free falling into Zayn without a parachute or a clue to where he was going.

 

He’d just close his eyes and fall. Falling and falling like he was in a dream. Only he never woke up or got ripped away. He’d just keep falling and every time, Zayn would catch him and make sure he found his lips wherever they were, no matter who saw.

 

Liam knew after that night that it didn’t matter how far up they were. He’d jump every time if Zayn was there to meet him at the finish line.

 

Liam didn’t finish blowing him that night when they stumbled up to their room with their bodies joined at the lips and hips again. They were exhausted beyond words by the time 4AM rolled around.

 

Zayn helped him undress down to his undies and Liam returned the favour. Then they made their little non-alcoholic cocktail with their legs in each other’s laps as they fell on opposite ends of Zayn’s bed and watched a cheesy netflix drama on the little TV.

 

It was the second time Liam slept on Zayn’s side. But it was the first time he did without blowing him first. Nights like that became a regular thing after. Less tears and hesitation, more goodnight kisses and the certainty that they’d both still be there in the morning.

 

_“Did you have fun?”_

 

He couldn’t see Zayn in the dark but his voice was near sleep when he replied.

 

_“Always have fun with you, Liam.”_

 

 _“You’ve only known me for a week.”_ He snorted.

 

_“Glad I’ll have more.”_

 

That made Liam very happy. That they could openly share their enjoyment of each other’s company just as easily as they could their bedroom.

 

 _“Oh shit…”_ Liam sat up before he could doze off completely as he remembered something, looking at Zayn drifting on the opposite end.

 

_“I never told you happy birthday.”_

 

 _“Thanks okay. No one did.”_ He mumbles back, turning over so his back faced Liam.

 

It seemed like an invitation.

 

Liam crawled to his end to get behind and Zayn let Liam wrap his arms around him.

 

He couldn’t believe how easy they could be this. He was in love with being like this.

 

_“Tell me next year.”_

 

He really loved promising him next year, casually assuming they’d still be together. He didn’t see why not.

 

It was safe to get comfortable here. Home and alone together.

 

He didn’t think Zayn felt so lonely with him around, even if it was just a party of two.

 

[ **_unsaved info - Joji_ ** ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PFQHJETYc60)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter takes place entirely in the present day.
> 
> It's Liam's turn to be 'explored' now. Past stories and present.


	5. The letter Y

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam has a letter for Zayn. But it turns out, Zayn has one too. His just starts with an X.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in 1 month I'm on a rollllll. Just remember I tagged angst with a HAPPY ending.

 

**_✯✯✯_  **

 

 

**_✯✯✯_  **

 

 **v. The letter Y**  

 

As Liam has finished snooping all morning, he’s now moved on to better, morality improved things.

 

Waiting on Zayn and listening to the stereo as he’s waltzing around their room to his French, [psychedelic-punk](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VwTrsDcX1gA) tunes while doing so.

 

Dancing to this mystical fusion in his underwear with his eyes closed as he whines his waist was such a relaxing past time. He feels 14 again, in his own world and totally alone. Only now, he enjoys it. The beat moves his head up towards the stars and his arms out in the air above his head and reaching for heaven as he moves his from hips from side to side like a snake in a steady, rhythmic infinity circle, shaking it down to the ground then back up with so much ease, you'd think he was a professional belly dancer.

 

He’s got a lot to do today but, he actually forgot how great being alone could be sometimes. No one to tease him about how weird his music is and how provocative he dances to it or how random it is that he’s either an American pop princess or a multi-cultured romantic with no in between.

 

He’ll admit he’s both relieved and disappointed about finding nothing much about Zayn he didn’t already know. He still knows Zayn isn’t what he  _pretends_ to be. That “straight douchebag” front of his. But he supposed some things were just better left a mystery.

 

He convinces himself it didn’t matter anymore. Even if they were a year into this thing, he tells himself he is fine with not knowing if where they were heading was in the same direction he had in mind. He’d know when they got both there.

 

For now, he’ll dance to the beat of his own song.

 

He never got the chance to listen to his own music unless Zayn was gone even though they agreed he had the stereo first.

 

This stereo existed because of this thing about living in the hell known as their building with all the annoying creatures that lived here aside from the residential douchebag and art student. There was a banshee that lives across the hall that used to play the  _shittiest_ dubstep album as loud as possible so it screeched through everyone’s walls for the entire term last year so they decided to buy a stereo together to combat the racket, the first time Liam and Zayn ever got something to share as an ‘us’.

 

As he’s happily dancing, he steps on something sharp that jams itself into his foot right through his fuzzy socks so he’s made to jump onto one leg and yelp in pain while he holds his foot.

 

It’s under one of Zayn’s porn mags is on the ground and he is reminded that he’s still left out some of Zayn’s stuff that he never finished putting back.

 

His investigating takes a fortuitous turn as he finds much more about Zayn than he bargained for after a diamond ring falls out when he picks it up.

 

_“Oh la la.”_

 

The tiny rocks are a beaut. From the way they sparkle, he can tell that the original diamond had been melted down and incrusted into the silver band so it shines all around like someone crushed stars into a piece of jewellery so it definitely wasn’t cheap either.

 

Out of curiosity, he slides it down his ring finger on his right hand as he twirls around with it and it fits him perfectly, admiring it as he dazzles his fingers.

 

When he picks up the magazine it fell out of, it flips open up to an article about a cosmetic surgery he missed. His brows wrinkle as he stops, seeing that Zayn has marked the page with a bookmark for his presumed interest.

 

 _“Penile enlargement?”_ Liam reads as he looks through the page.

 

_Ding! Ding! Ding!_

 

“Oh… _la la,”_

 

There are some  _very_ big boys in this magazine.

 

He holds his chest and slides back down to the ground with his mouth hung open, his mind now blown that he actually found what he was looking for.

 

Dick.

 

Correction, _big_ dick. But it’s just an ad for enhancement tips. 

 

 _“Definitely not one of your shortcomings, buddy.”_ He snorts to himself.

 

Maybe not exactly what he thought he’d find but, just as entertaining. The girls advertising these pumps are quite nightmarish, smiling into the cameras with monstrous hanging dicks in their faces.

 

 _“Jeez,”_ He grimaces at how the girls are baring their teeth like that’s supposed to broaden the appeal and not scare the guy away.

 

_“Is this supposed to be getting his dick sucked or circumcised?”_

 

Just as Liam is about to delve deeper into Zayn’s bizarre interest in big dicks, the bookmark falls out and reveals it’s actually an envelope containing a folded up piece of notebook paper that also falls out.

 

He picks it up and finds something even more scandalous than nude photos or dildos as he flips it over.

 

An unsent letter from September, a year ago today. But Liam didn’t realise it was a letter until he’d read too much of it. He recognises Zayn’s neat handwriting from reading his notes during their study sessions.

 

It didn’t start off with dear anyone. It starts with _I’m sorry,_

 

Actually, that’s not the first words. They’re the first words Liam understands as English. But by the time Liam has got through three lines, he’s counted a few more.

 

_Meri jaan,_

_I’m sorry that I still think about you from time to time._

_I don’t know if that’s okay but, I’m sorry_ _._

_I sound like a broken record don’t I?_

_What the hell do I know but being sorry?_

_I'll probably be drunk by the time I finish this - already halfway there._

 

_‘Meri Jaan… Mary Jane?’_

 

He reads the first line over, trying to understand what it means.

 

Maybe it’s a nickname. He’s referred to Liam as that name before. Usually when he’s drunk.

 

Then again, maybe it’s not a name at all. The spelling indicates that it’s another language. The fact that Zayn is multilingual makes that easy to believe. Liam knows that his mother’s parents were those old-fashioned immigrants that came from the old country and spoke the language to their children still so Zayn often says phrases that Liam usually doesn't understand.

 

He starts wondering if that’s her nickname he’s been calling him. Whenever Zayn’s in his slightly overwhelmed after-sex haze and trying not to be in tears.

 

By this point, he knew he should’ve stopped reading the letter. He knew he was crossing a boundary he shouldn’t… but he’d come this far. He may as well finish.

 

 

_I'm writing this cause I_

_got your mag in the mail._

_I_ _knew_ _a September cover was_

_something you always wanted_

_and it’s a pretty big deal so congrats!_

_I_ _t’s gorgeous._

 

_You're probably gonna go to that_

_Brasserie place to celebrate_

_cause everyone in New York_

_i_ _s_ _obsessed with French shit_

_and goes there to celebrate_

_every fucking thing_

_(Harry's taking me there for_

_my birthday apparently -_ _like I don't already_

_got a reason to get into AA - my point stands)_

 

_Anyway, I remember you said that_

_you would get that cover_

_when we were like 12 so,_

_You know I’m going to frame it in my room._

_Think my dream was to fly to the moon_

_or something stupid like that._

 

_Seeing it come to life makes_

_me really miss back then._

_I think it makes me miss us in general._

_I’ll probably be reminiscing_

_for the rest of my life._

_Deep down, I always knew you’d outgrow me._

_Even back then._

 

_I just keep falling into that fucking black hole._

_I would be pestering Crypt with this shit but_

_talking to a grave for so long_

_just makes me want to climb inside it with him now._

_I feel like I’ve been losing my fucking mind, G._

_Like I’m turning into that weird old man._

_He would’ve loved you, by the way._

 

_He really liked blondes -_

_Which might explain why he despised_

_me, his wife, and ma so much,_

_(two gingers and a brownie - some luck)_

_But it don’t explain why he loved Stone so much._

_Duality I guess._

_Regardless, I have a theory that_

_he would’ve liked me better if I was a blondie._

 

 

Liam stops reading after the lines mentioning his grandpa and Stone.

 

He's staring ahead at his wall as he thinks about how much everything about this _sucks._ He couldn’t call this a checkmate. Even though he guessed this first once, it wasn’t that satisfying to know.

 

Zayn wasn’t a soulless black hole because he was born that way. Every sad thing that’s happened to him stemmed from somewhere and now, Liam knows where. He already loved being an _us_ before and now she was gone.

 

He’s still heartbroken.

 

The letter isn’t finished nor is it addressed to anyone properly but, Liam already knows who it’s for. He’s heard her real name so many times already.

 

 _Meri Jaan_ means Jelena. Otherwise known as Zayn’s past life.

 

Her cover falls out from behind the page, the front of the first issue of the magazine Zayn saved and presumably never got the chance to frame. It takes a full blink or two for Liam to fully realise who and what he's looking at.  

 

 

 

_“Oh my fucking GOD…”_

_  
_ _  
_ _  
_ _Jelena “Gigi” Hadid_

 

He chokes when he sees her name across Italian Vogue, _the_ most important issue of the brand's magazine with  _the_ currently most in-demand fashion model of their generation since she got this cover and 25 more solo ones since - the youngest girl to ever beat out every other supermodel in the history of the entire fashion industry at just 21-years-old.

 

How the hell did it never occur to him to Google this bitch, he has no idea. He knew her first name and that she was probably a model so that was more than enough info. But he wasn’t expecting to see a supermodel _._

 

He sees her walking around downtown in Manhattan all the time. She fucking lives in Noho, right across from their room (if you eliminated the entire river separating the two islands). He almost  _met her_ once.

 

Last year, after Zayn's birthday dinner. When they were all leaving, he was star-struck when he saw her sitting across the room.

 

She wasn't eating and didn't look preoccupied or very involved with her group so he was going to try to ask to get a photo because he knew Zayn was a huge fan but, he's now glad Jesy stopped him from approaching her or alerting Zayn that she was there.

 

At the time, he figured she just didn't want to help enable Zayn to hit on her. Now he _really_ knows why _._

 

He immediately takes off her ring and falls back into the letter as his morality crumbles, his ringed hand shaking as he holds the year old piece of paper.

 

If intimidation could  _kill…_

 

_Anyway, I’m faded as fuck right now_

_and talking nonsense again._

_Kinda got something I thought_

_you'd get a kick out of._

_So I met someone last night--_

 

_“Liam?”_

 

His response to hearing his own name would’ve matched that if he’d been called on by the devil as he screams and slams the porn magazine closed with a pounding heart trying to jump up his tight throat as he looks up

 

Liam hadn’t noticed the door opening as he was so engrossed in reading so there’s no time to cover up this violation of roommate etiquette 101: keep your nosy hands to yourself.

 

Fortunately, it’s not Zayn. It’s Harry.

 

Basically, the devil. But he’ll take him over Zayn.

 

Unfortunately… Harry also has a wicked grin and evil in his eyes as he looks between Liam and Zayn’s drawer already connecting the dots of what Liam’s been doing all day.

 

They both know he’s done for.

 

Rule #1: Don’t touch Zayn’s stuff, unless you want the boot.

 

Harry takes a step back out of the room and cups his hand over his mouth as he starts shouting,

 

_“ZAAAAAAYN!”_

 

Liam lunges at him, tackling him to the ground after he’s sprinted to his feet.

 

They both fall halfway out the door as the wind punches out of them, enough for Liam to see Zayn walking down the corridor with a big paper bag dangling on his arm, skateboard in hand and annoyed grimace that permanently sits on his face 99% of the time as he yammers away on the phone.

 

He’s got a hat covering half of his forehead and a camo military jacket, totally distracted as he’s talking on the phone and waving a tray in his other hand around animatedly as he does so because he tends to talk with his hands no matter what he’s carrying or who might get smacked, the tray carrying two more coffee mugs.

 

One says _New York_ and the other with _London_

 

Liam drags Harry back into their room, taking him hostage as he slams the door shut behind them before Zayn sees him rushing to clean up the mess he made and preparing to lie his ass off.

 

Harry doesn’t even try to open the door and get Liam’s ass kicked, laughing as he actually stands in front and buys more time for Liam, interested in seeing how this will unfold all on its own.

 

“So Liam,” He starts with a smirk as he leans against the door and sips his coffee.

 

Liam rolls his eyes at the way his tone screams mischief, faking a tight smile as he rushed to put everything back.

 

“ _What_ Harry.”

 

“Suspecting a cheating boyfriend or did a sudden interest in pussy spring up in you today? You can tell me. I’ve been through _both_.”

 

 _“I'd sooner hang myself.”_ Liam retorts which made Harry snicker with his eyes squeezed shut.

 

He already lived through the woes of Harry’s last cheating ex-boyfriend.

 

He spent a full week crying in their room, eating pizza and Chinese take-out while watching cheesy Netflix flicks with Zayn and Liam which spurred rule #10 of why he isn’t allowed over for long anymore and the reason why Liam finally hooked him up with Perrie so he’d leave them  _alone_. She's kept him pretty occupied for the most part but, Harry would always be in their lives no matter what and Liam doesn't know if that's a good thing or a curse.

 

He doesn’t have time to play with Harry. He ignores him and speed cleans in record-breaking time, successfully putting the drawer back together without a scrap of paper (or letter) out of place and quickly getting into a natural position as he sits up against Zayn’s bed again with a furry blanket thrown over him to cover his underwear and an open book in hand.

 

As soon as he starts reading on the floor, Harry moves out of the way to let Zayn walk in, still arguing with someone on the phone.

 

“I’m not paying a million dollars for something I can get for free, Luck. So either lower the price or me and my money will take our business elsewhere.” He barks at the phone.

 

He hands the coffee tray to Harry to hold behind him, shoving it in his chest roughly and tosses his skateboard at the wall on his left a little angrily as he takes off his sweatshirt. Anyone would’ve thought he was in a really bad mood. But you can’t  _truly_ tell that Zayn is angry until you see everything he touches and in his vicinity getting shoved around roughly.

 

The two front wheels fall off of its bent truck hanger - the metal bar the wheels are supposed to be attached to and Liam he can now see that Zayn is pissed about wrecking his skateboard. He treated these kinds of possessions like a prized car. It was his ride to getting around the city so, if you take away his wheels you're essentially chopping off his legs and Liam feels bad everytime something happens to his wheels.

 

Zayn takes the London mug from the tray and nods to Liam when he sees him on the ground, his grimace straightening out briefly with a soft smile as he pulls the phone away.

 

_“Hey,”_

 

"Hi.”

 

 _"Hi-ho!"_   Zayn sings back again like a cowboy from the deep South as he purposefully throws his hat on Liam's face as he steps over him, sticking out his tongue with a funny face and getting to the other side of their small room after giving Liam his drink.

 

Liam shakes his hat off with a grin, eyes following Zayn and watching him turn down Liam’s music with another grimace before he cups his cell phone between his cheek and shoulder while emptying his liquor bag to restock the cabinet over Liam’s bed, getting back into his heated negotiation over the phone.

 

If Liam told anyone how silly Zayn is with him, they'd never believe him.

 

Liam sits down his creamy milk and crawls over to Zayn’s board, discreetly throwing the magazine under the bunk before Zayn sees as he makes his way over to examine it with Harry.

 

 _“What happened?_ ” He whispers to Harry while Zayn puts things away behind them.

 

“He rolled out in front of a bus like an idiot. I almost watched him die.” Harry snorts, shaking his head.

 

Liam’s heart almost stops as he looks back at Zayn and notices the side of his face is bleeding.

 

“What!? HOW!”

 

“He was talking on the  _phone_ and not paying attention to his surroundings. Which is illegal in this state by the way.”

 

He knew it. He tsks disapprovingly, looking down underneath their desk for a first aid kit as Zayn is hanging up the phone.

 

“Who the hell was distracting you to that you can’t concentrate on your life anymore? Did Gigi walk by?” Harry asks.

 

All those Gigi Jokes that Liam has participated in... he closes his eyes and cringes inside now.

 

"You have a photo shoot next week, you can't be fuckin' up your face right now."

 

Before Liam can ask what he's talking about, Zayn ignore's Harry, crouching down behind Liam to show to the bottom of the board that’s been cracked.

 

“Shit’s _your_ fault.” He squeezes Liam's side from the back, making him squeal forward, swatting him off.

 

“You’ve cost me two skateboards in a year.”

 

One of which Liam bought him.

 

“I don’t appreciate you accusing me of your recklessness.” Liam pushes his hands away as he looks back at him with a frown as he smooths his thumb over his face lightly, wiping his temple with a wet wipe.

 

The scratch underneath is way less painful than the blood made it look, barely even noticeable once it's clean. It'll probably heal by tomorrow but, Liam still rubs ointment over it and patches Zayn up with a band-aid while lecturing him about how he's not actually immortal, reciprocating the smile on Zayn's face as he basks in Liam pampering him with his eyes closed.

 

He would've kissed it after if Harry wasn't there. He only wipes under his chin with a wink that makes Zayn laugh.

 

"Are you done now, mummy?" He bats his lashes at Liam.

 

"No! What is this?!?"

 

Liam is referring to his  _hair._

 

Zayn’s also got a new platinum blonde streak in the front of his hair which answers Liam’s question of what the hell he’s been doing for the last few hours.

 

Apparently, Harry's band is designing a cover for their debut EP and want a blonde model on the front as a centrepiece in a sea of dark-haired girls. The concept of the photoshoot is cool but out of all the girls they know that are in the industry, everyone voted that Zayn had the perfect face so he's gone from modelizer to an actual, _paid_ model.

 

SEAINE!’s gotta shine, after all. Liam thinks they made a great choice although… imagining Zayn totally blonde is very strange. He’s sure he could pull it off.

 

Blonde models.

 

He thinks about all the girls he’s ever seen Zayn with and he suddenly can’t get Gigi’s porcelain skin, mole-speckled body and golden hair out of his head.

 

Thinking about what Zayn comes home to every day, he’d never felt more like a glass of cheap vodka in comparison to a muse of Chanel on his wall.

 

“Nice to know I'm only good for my pretty face, right?” Zayn ducks under Liam's hand in his hair that’s distractedly gone stiff.

 

Liam rolls his eyes up as he snaps out of it, turning away _knowing_  that Zayn is just fishing for compliments now.

 

“Shut up, you know you're more than just a pretty face.”

 

Zayn grins as he goes to mess up Liam's hair right back but he realises it's wet and pauses as his eyes move down Liam's neck.

 

“Did you just shower?” he asks with interest piqued in his voice as he's moving his fingers up through Liam's hair.

 

Liam nods and focuses on not squirming but his bodies natural reaction is to tilt his head back a little. The tips of Zayn's fingers feel like silk smoothing through his hair.   

 

_“Why?”_

 

Zayn’s nose is right at his neck.

 

_“Cause you smell real good.”_

 

Liam may or may not have known that was Zayn’s favourite combination of flavours he put on his body.

 

Private tricks he’s learned when he knows he’ll run into a crush, #44: Wear patchouli oil and Chanel #19, attract a stoner with a boner.

 

Harry stands behind them, oblivious as he’s discussing plans to go through with bleaching Zayn’s whole head next after their little experiment didn’t make his hair fall out.

 

Liam tells them that going Slim Shady in this century is definitely the worst idea Harry has ever had unless he’s okay with going for bald for the year as Zayn is distractingly prodding the back of his neck bone with the tips of his fingers in amusement like he's trying to throw him off of lecturing them.

 

He definitely knows what he's doing as Liam stops talking, closes his eyes slowly and swallows, leaning into it more.

 

“That actually feels really great.”

 

 _“Yeah?”_ Zayn smiles, taking that as _please keep going._

 

_“Where?”_

 

_“Lower.”_

 

His fingers loosen at the nape of his neck and move up again slower this time.  

 

_“Right there.”_

 

_“Here?”_

 

 _“Mmhmm.”_ He nods with Zayn's fingers rubbing his neck.

 

Whatever nerves he’s hitting has the sensation rolling down his back like drops of water, starting to tingle as his heart speeds up and the blood rushes down.

 

As he repeats the movement, it gets sexual pretty fast.

 

Harry has since noticed now and raises an eyebrow at them and it makes Liam uncomfortable that someone is watching, suddenly feeling weird that Zayn is doing this to him in front of someone. He's wishing Harry would just leave now.

 

There was this weird air whenever people look at Liam and Zayn together. It was like they were scrutinising their body language and waiting for something to happen and he absolutely hates it. It makes him feel like a zoo animal with the constant surveillance, especially in his own room. But Liam will literally sit on the other side of the table opposite to Zayn when they all go out to a restaurant or make sure there's someone between them at a theatre or two arm lengths away at a concert just so the eyes don't follow their every move.

 

He clears his throat as he discreetly flinches out of Zayn’s reach instead of telling him to stop touching him now that he’s thoroughly freaked himself out. He's had enough tender messaging with an audience, standing and going back to the other side of the room, clutching his blanket tightly so his ass cheeks don't fall out.

 

“So what's in the bag?” Liam asks as he sits back down, rubbing his neck as he gets back into his book.

 

Harry purses his lips as he looks down at Zayn, who quickly blinks out of his own daze to stand up too.

 

“Oh, I got you something.”

 

He has a huge smile on his face after he’s reminded, holding up his finger so Liam waits as he gets back up and digs through the bag on his bed again.

 

“You seriously got me something?”

 

“You’re gonna like this.”

 

“I told you not to get me anything.”

 

“But you’ll _like_ this.”

 

That time he says it sounds more suggestive so Liam watches with a little more curiosity.

 

While Zayn digs in his bag, Harry notices something else.

 

His eyes bulge for a second before he grins.

 

“Is it another toy?”

 

Liam gives him a confused look before his own eyes bulge when Harry nods down to where Liam has left out the smoking gun that points to his crime.

 

The dildo. It’s poking out right underneath Zayn’s bed.

 

He jumps on it but Harry steps on it first so now Liam sits on his foot, which starts kicking him as Harry attacks him.

 

Liam gives his leg a hard elbow as he fights him off as the thing slides out from underneath them just as he looks down at the two of them, puzzled by Liam’s flopping around on the floor with Harry on top of him.

 

"What are you guys doing?"

 

Liam sits up with his chin in his palm after pushing Harry off, offering a sweet smile.

 

“What were you showing me that I'd like?”

 

There's a pause as he stares at the both with suspicion before he slowly takes out two fancy looking bottle of wines.

 

“Well, first I got these two. This one is limited edition winter blend of Barefoot Red with notes of vanilla and blackberry jam,” He announces with a bright smile as he hands it to Liam.

 

“Wow… thanks. But it’s not winter.”

 

“Apparently the Russian liquor store doesn’t know that.” He shrugs, then looks at the other bottle.

 

“Then this one is some shit called Dom Perignon. I wasn't sure if you said it was a white wine or champagne--”

 

“What the _fuck_ Zayn?!?” Liam blurts as he stands up after reading the label of the white one, looking at Zayn like he’s insane.

 

“What’s the matter?” He frowns.

 

“You bought me a 300 dollar bottle of wine?!?”

 

Harry looks at the label too with raised brows.

 

“So?” Zayn takes it with a shrug, storing it in the cabinet for later.

 

“I can afford it.”

 

“That’s not the _point_.” Liam steps off the dildo that Harry takes it upon himself to quickly pick up and hold behind his back.

 

“Why did you--”

 

“Because I _wanted_ to.” Zayn turns back towards Liam as he looks him in the eye.

 

His pupils are very wide. Liam thinks he might be high and subsequently not in his right mind. He’s acting really weird right now. Happier than usual. Not that Zayn was never happy. Just not very often or enough to be spending hundreds of dollars on Liam on a random whim. It was usually the other way around.

 

He doesn’t want to ask him if he’s on drugs and kill Zayn’s high, _whatever_ that high might be from (even though he knows he was hanging out in a drug den last night).

 

“And anyway,” Zayn moves on with rolled eyes, pushing back his blonde hairs away from his dewy eyes looking like molten gold in the light now.

 

“That’s what everyone does at the gallery, right? Stress you out, talk about Picasso and drink Dom. I mean, you drank an entire bottle of fucking cabernet Sauvignon last night. I asked you why you were in the lounge all by yourself and you said I’m too butch to drink wine, which isn’t true. I thought you’d like it to soften up tonight and a bit stress-free for a change maybe?”

 

It takes a few seconds for Liam to process everything he said as he blinks a couple times after Zayn repeats a conversation that he doesn’t remember having.

 

His memory starts catching up with him then, stumbling up the stairs and tripping over his limbs when he fell into their room. Zayn didn't push him off in bed, he tucked Liam in. They talked until he fell asleep although he can't remember any of what he said.

 

“Tonight?” He says dumbly.

 

Even if he knew what drinking stress-free meant, Liam doesn’t know if he’s more touched by the sentiment or confused because… _why?_

 

“I thought you would like it,” Zayn says again for like the 30th time, setting everything else on the ground after he pulls out a tape from the bag.

 

“Gothic movie night, remember? I got Queen of the Damned. Starring Aaliyah’s tight, little sexy ass in _fangs,_ _”_

He wiggles his eyebrows up and down with a grin while Harry sorts through his bag behind him.

 

“What else have you got in here, Santa?”

 

“Nothing for _you.”_

 

While Zayn snatches his bag from Harry, the gears finally connect in Liam as he suddenly remembers they technically planned this a while ago.

 

Every week this month and last, they started an accidental habit to get drunk while watching a bad horror movie in their room they've rented from the video store, preferably from the late 90s or early 2000s. Last week, it was the Craft. The week before that, Jennifer’s Body. Tonight, Queen Akasha apparently. Always with a leading lady as the badass demon, witch or vampire.

 

They’d only done this a few times but it already felt like a tradition. Halloween would probably be filled with Christmas movies.

 

“Oh… right,” he turns back around as he’s looking at all his crap on the floor.

 

Explain what he’s been doing all day or lie?

 

He hates to disappoint Zayn but, as much as he’d love to watch a movie about someone who devours their lovers in her spare time, he doesn’t have spare time to hang out with or devour anyone today. He genuinely got too wrapped up is going through Zayn’s stuff. He obviously can’t say that to Zayn.

 

“I’m sorry, I totally forgot. I can’t tonight. I absolutely have to study all of these buyers names before I can run all these stupid errands. I have to go to the printers then get everything framed then deposit every check in the bank, I'm basically a slave." He snorts as he looks at the long list on the floor.

 

"You know the new gallery is opening downtown that I'm moving to so, I'm pretty much fully booked for the rest of the day.”

 

It was the perfect truth. But from the look Zayn gives him, the truth must be ugly.

 

“Seriously?” Zayn drops his hands as Liam slides back down to the floor again. “I thought you would’ve been done with that by now.”

 

Liam only shrugs with his lips held in while Zayn's excited smile falls right off his face as he goes back to frowning as usual. So usual the lines stay on his head even when the frown isn't there.

 

“Why does it always feel like I’m either losing you to Divino or a bunch of girls?” he laughs pathetically, shaking his head as he packs it back into his bag, then to himself he mutters.

 

_“Outgrowing me already.”_

 

Liam’s heart quakes a little as he looks up at Zayn, already turned back towards Liam’s bed and reaching for a bottle of whiskey to down on his own.

 

“You’re not losing me to _anyone,"_

 

He feels like he’s talking to someone that’s suddenly gone 1,000 miles away from him. He always does that out of nowhere. Pull back into himself or check out like he’s beating Liam into leaving.

 

Maybe it wouldn't bother Liam so much if he weren't always reaching for a glass like that's an answer to every problem every time he says he's trying to stop drinking.

 

“Why do you always _do_ this?” Liam lets slip out.

 

He doesn’t usually ask Zayn why but this time he does and Zayn stops, freezing like he just pulled the brakes on the entire operation.

 

He looks to the side, down at the ground as he asks,

 

“Why do I always do  _what?_ ”

 

They both briefly forget that there’s someone else in the room with them right now. They glance at Harry at the same time after he clears his throat in the corner where he’s been quietly watching.

 

Liam rolls his eyes with a sigh, sinking lower into the ground and leaving his milk to chill cold as his resolve to not go out today multiplies stronger, wanting both Harry  _and_ Zayn to leave him alone now.

 

“Nothing." He sighs. This is something that he definitely doesn’t want to discuss in front of Harry.

 

There’s a moment of silence that grows way too loud in such a small space so, Harry interjects before it can get awkward.

 

“I noticed you were studying real hard there, _detective_.” Harry steps over Liam, who snatches the dildo away from behind his back and sits on it, consciously moving it further underneath him so it won’t be seen even if he stood up again.

 

Harry takes the bottle from Zayn’s hand, which he protests loudly for as Harry puts it back and closes cabinet so he can begin to put Zayn’s coat back on for him.

 

“And this is great news because we’ve got plans anyways, lover.”

 

Zayn takes offence to this suggestion to hang out with him, shoving Harry off him.

 

“Since when?”

 

“Since my band are playing at a gig tonight and since you're the face of our brand and part of the team now, I reckon you’re helping us set up our new equipment.”

 

Liam kind of felt bad about saddling Zayn with Harry but sometimes weird things start happening to the air in here. Things that make him go from eagerly wanting to hang out with Zayn and no one else to suddenly needing space from Zayn for a while as he starts thinking about who else he can study this shit with just to get out of this room even though there's no one he'd rather study with than Zayn.

 

He thinks about what Leigh-Anne said. How he gets too comfortable with things because it _isn’t_ normal and he knows that.

 

He has to remind himself that they aren’t really a…

 

A unit.

 

Yeah, that’s what he’s gonna call what this feels like sometimes since no other words make any sense and that one is just vague enough to slightly work.

 

2 people. Sharing things and buying each other gifts occasionally. Doing things together with their friends. And a little more intimate on special holidays and in private just because. Like movie nights and wine at home. Maybe make-out sessions when they’ve had too much to drink but, no one needed to know that.

 

Totally what units probably do, which they _aren’t_. Idealistically, maybe. In a fantasy, sure. Liam can pretend like there’s something else here, in his head as much as he wants. But the  _reality_ was plain and simple.

 

They’re roommates.

 

As much as he likes it, they should have hobbies without each other and stop acting like a married… unit.

 

There’s no ring or baby or joint bank account and marriage certificate joining them together for life. Just a lease that is up soon. They need to peel each other off at some point.

 

“Funny, I don't remember agreeing to that shit. You wanna show me where in my contract does it say slave labour?” Zayn argues with Harry now as they both move to the other side of the room while Liam gets out his cell phone to text up his usual study group to see if they’re going to the library for any sessions today.

 

“You don’t have a choice, Butch. Movie night is cancelled, what better do you have to do with your hundreds of others friends?”

 

Liam narrows his eyes up at Harry when he says that, reminded of how much of a manipulative douche he is sometimes.

 

Zayn gives a faux smile at the ground with a nod and Liam feels an aching pulse again when he looks at Liam.

 

“I can think of about a _million_ different things I’d rather be doing tonight.”

 

He says it to Harry but he's looking right at Liam.

 

He really took movie night much more serious than Liam thought he ever would've. He addresses Harry again.

 

“None of them includes hanging out in a clink, listening t’ Horan serenading a crowd of tweaked out crystal queens.”

 

The Clink was just as subversive as it sounds. It was basically a big ally of abandoned storage lockers that raves and circuit parties took place in every week and also home to the deadliest drug extravaganzas in Queens.

 

At least one person overdosed every night but the party still thumped on. They got raided all the time and if you get caught there with anything at all, you WILL get charged as even the mere possession of small amounts of drugs can be charged with a felony.

 

Even though it was really none of his business, Liam kind of hated when Zayn went there with Harry. He starts to reconsider studying today.

 

A one and a half hour movie with 1 glass of Dom wouldn't kill him, right?

 

With Zayn, the answer to that question was always maybe.

 

“At least come set up, you don’t even have to stay.” Harry’s begging now, clasping his hands in front of him.

 

“It’ll only take like an hour or two, _tops_.”

 

“Can’t. I’ve got a date in the park in an hour.”

 

Liam looks up at them again as Harry is shaking his head and gesturing to Zayn’s ridiculous excuses.

 

“It’s amazing how busy someone becomes when they don’t want to help, isn’t it?”

 

“Seriously.” Zayn isn’t laughing. “I’m hanging out with Luck, I’m not making shit up. He’s gonna be there soon.”

 

"So if I call him right now, he'll confirm this?"

 

"Go ahead."

 

_Him…?_

 

“Who’s Luck?” Liam asks from the floor, loud enough so they both look at him.

 

“Why do you care?” Zayn shrugs.

 

“I _don’t.”_ Liam shoots back almost instantly.

Harry closes his eyes with a wide smile, shaking his head at the two of them after he laughs.

 

Zayn and Liam both look back at him.

 

“What?” They say at the same time and he puts his hands up quickly.

 

“Nothing! _Jesus… ”_ He breathes, failing to keep his smirk off his face.

 

“Luck is Leigh’s little brother, Lukas.” He answers for Liam. "The adopted one."

 

_You mean the gay one._

 

“Don’t worry, Zee’s just buying a skateboard from him.” He adds the same way Leigh-Anne felt the need to add a disclaimer to raise less alarm to Zayn’s recent activities.

 

He doesn’t care about Zayn going out with guys, or anyone for that matter… right?

 

“That okay with you, daddy?” Zayn brings it back to Liam again, who is both disgusted by Zayn calling him that and quite sick of this nauseating back and forth, picking up his book and pulling on grey joggers before moving to get shoes on to take his studies elsewhere.

 

“You guys can do _whatever_ you want.” He huffs as he bends over to pick up everything.

 

“I’m leaving.”

 

“Wait,” Harry blocks the door when Liam tries to leave, on his way to the lounge where a few friends have invited him downstairs.

 

“Are you really doing anything that special today or were you not finished searching for forensic evidence?”

 

Liam wiggles his notes in his hand with a tight smile to indicate that, yes, he is busy and even if he wasn’t, he’s not a fucking div or going anywhere near a den full of them.

 

“Liam,” Harry holds his shoulders and looks him in the eye with desperation.

 

“Not joking, I will _pay you money_ to come with me _.”_

 

Zayn pulls Liam out of his grip, shaking his head no since he knows Liam isn’t going to say no.

 

“There’s no way in _hell_ you are bribing my roommate with your dirty money, Styles.”

 

Liam is already going to put his books back on his bed since he clearly isn’t getting shit done today.

 

“It’s fine.” He sighs. “I’ll help you. You don’t have to bribe me--”

 

“Great!” Harry cheers with his hands up. “Now hurry up!”

 

He gives Liam a whistle and gestures for him to hop to it and Lam stops him.

 

“No, not hurry up. If you want my help, you’re gonna wait. I'm not leaving home dressed like a homeless person and if you  _whistle_ at me like that again, it better be followed by a compliment. I’m a cute boy, not a dog.”

 

Zayn covers his face laughing silently after Liam checks Harry who clearly wasn’t expecting Liam to get smart with him.

 

“How long am I waiting?”

 

“Just until after I find a nice outfit…. But you can watch if you like.”

 

Zayn's hand slides down over his smile when Liam gives Harry a wink that makes his face tint.

 

He makes a show of undressing in front of him, taking off his shirt in a slow manner that actually makes Harry clear his throat awkwardly and change his gaze to stare at the ground while Zayn watches with his arms crossed.

 

He folds in his bottom lip with his grinning cheeks tinted red too, glancing between Harry’s staring at Liam’s stripping down.

 

After a while, Zayn makes him turn away from the view when Liam starts to take off his sweats.

 

“Alright, this isn’t a peep show.”

 

“We’re all guys here.” Harry reasons.

 

“Except I changed my mind about letting you interrupt his studies. He’s busy, _I’m_ busy, and you’re shit outta luck. And I am absolutely _sick_ of being in this fucking crowd of 3.”

 

Zayn pushes Harry out of their room while Liam pauses and it finally hits him that Zayn has been trying to get them alone, actually insisting it this entire time.

 

He’s just never made it this obvious as he actually kicks Harry out after he’s conveniently gotten half-naked.

 

“You wanna live here? Pay rent. Otherwise, _go the fuck home._  And book an appointment before dropping by. If I wanted a dumb fucking Guinea pig hanging around in my room, I woulda bought one.”

 

Liam throws his sweats at Zayn’s back as they land on his shoulder for calling Harry the G-word. Learning their slang has been hard to catch but he knows calling an Italian that is a pretty ugly slur and he hates that Zayn does that. Sometimes it's cute but just saying anything he feels like to people without thought can really hurt their feelings, friend or not.

 

Harry’s mouth falls open.

 

“You know what? I don’t have to stand for your verbal abuse.” Harry’s foot stops the door from slamming in his face.

 

“I’m gonna leave and when I do, I don’t wanna see _either_ of you assholes trying to text me back when you see me on TV in 10 years as Harry Styles, the next Simon Cowell with bands selling out stadiums worldwide.” He announces, dignified.

 

“Harry Styles, the jackass that’ll still be selling to me in 10 years and watching people play shitty covers out of storage lockers.”

 

Liam laughs as he slides back down to the ground in his underwear. Accepting his defeat, Harry offers his final tender.

 

“There’s gonna be some big names showing up later…and _live_ entertainment as well. As in cute dancers.”

 

He looks right at Liam with the next part, taking his jeans from Zayn and tossing them over.

 

“Female _and male.”_

 

While he didn’t care for Harry’s penchant for appreciating both views, Liam thought he had great taste either way.

 

Liam curiously looks up at that, the whole gig suddenly sounding less like a roach motel.

 

“Why didn’t you say that first?”

 

“Because we’re _studying_.” Zayn chirps with a smile.

 

Suddenly, it’s we now.

 

"You're gonna help me study?"

 

"Of course. I'm a professional, remember?"

 

Zayn shuts the door but gets stopped by Harry’s shoe.

 

“We go on at 9 if you get done by then Liam!--”

 

Zayn holds the door with a hard expression.

 

 _“Didn’t you just say you were leaving 5 fucking seconds ago??”_ He says through clenched teeth.

 

Liam tries to contain his laughter as he buries his face in both of his hands.

 

“Give me a break, dude. I’m trying to get as many people to support them as possible--”

 

“Look,” Zayn closes his eyes. “I will come by _after_ I am done today… _IfYouLeaveRightNow._ Alright?” Zayn promises.

 

He could not have been more obvious. He might as well just hang a sock on the knob while he's at it.

 

Harry narrows his eyes at him, going between looking at Zayn in front of him and glancing at Liam in the background before he smiles and nods once like he just _knows_ they are not about to be studying shit 5 minutes from now.

 

“Tell you what, I’m gonna be back here at 8 to pick you up.” He bargains. “I’d appreciate it if you guys stop being ‘busy’ _studying_ at around that time.”

 

He looks up at Liam then.

 

“You think you can handle 5 hours, Li?”

 

Liam heard every word but, he doesn’t look up.

 

“5 hours with him?” He turns his page, “More like 5 minutes.”

 

The narrow-eyed look Zayn gives him in response to that when Liam glances up at them speaks loudly between them from across the room.

 

_You just wait until we’re alone you little shit._

 

Liam doesn’t know why he’s playing games. He’s honestly just as desperate as Zayn to be alone right about now. While he also enjoys these boys fighting over having him to themselves like he’s their favourite toy, he’s ready for his own favourite boy toy now.

 

Harry puts his hand on Zayn’s shoulder.

 

_“Mazel tov?”_

 

Zayn slams the door in Harry’s face, cutting off his laughter with Liam, leaning back against the door with his lips held in as his temple pulses with his pissed off glare.

 

“I last _5 minutes_ now, huh?” He repeats with a nod. “Since you wanna be a comedian now, how about you to keep that same energy when you're gasping for breath, yeah?”

 

Liam flips the page with his lips held in, not saying a word.

 

When Zayn walks over to him, he looks up when Zayn squats down in Liam’s face.

 

“And another thing.” He starts as he’s reaching under Liam’s thighs and yanking him forward as he smiles when their noses touch, letting Zayn's hand slide under his ass until he pulls out _his_  other toy, holding it in front of Liam’s face.

 

“I know what you clowns are thinking but this isn’t what it looks like.”

 

He had a feeling Zayn saw him and Harry tossing it across the floor. He tilts his head with a frown in mock concern.

 

_“You know I don’t care what you do on your own time, right babe?”_

 

“This is a--”

 

_“Penis?”_

 

“A _bong.”_ Zayn’s fighting back a laugh as his lips tighten. “Like I told you it was 6 months ago when it came in that box. _”_

 

Liam laughs in his face at his insistence for Liam to believe his lie which makes Zayn laugh too.

 

“I’m serious! You can make a bong out of anything.”

 

_“You’re gonna tell me you bought this thing with two balls and a circumcised dick to turn it into a bong?”_

 

“First of all, I didn’t buy it for myself.”

 

Liam doesn't know if he means he bought it for someone  _else_ or someone else bought it for him.

 

“Second of all, it’s meant to look like a dick. _As a joke.”_

 

“Then show me the punchline, _sweetheart_.”

 

Zayn walks over to their stereo and slams it on the table with a ringing thud.

 

“You gonna smoke this with me if I show you the punchline?” He asks with a sly side-eye as he takes out a lighter and unwraps a plastic bag full weed with a very pungent smell from under their nightstand.

 

Offering to do drugs with him instead of drinking… _that’s_ a first.

 

“Yeah right.” Liam scoffs, going back to his book.

 

“Last time you ingested something that came from that place, you had a spaz attack and I had to practically tape you to the bed so you wouldn’t try to jump out of the bloody window after convincing you that you couldn't _fly_. You don’t need to see me getting weird.”

 

“Yeah… that was real fun wasn’t it?” Zayn reminisces that day like it was a happy time with a content sigh.

 

Getting blown with his hands tied to the side probably was a good time to Zayn. Getting _stoned_ was another story. Literally, Liam had heard stories from people that got high with Zayn for the first time and all of them were just as crazy as he was.

 

 

Someone once said Zayn could go to hell to look Medusa in the eye and, instead of him turning to stone, get _her_ stoned with a shotgun.

 

Not the kind that kills you. The kind of shotgun that comes from blowing weed smoke from the tip of his spliff into your mouth because he just had it like that. Liam was sure it was true just from the permanent residue that was probably in his lungs.

 

He’s never come close to blowing Liam… until today apparently.

 

After Zayn starts up Liam’s romantic Spanish house tunes at low volume so it only plays in the background subtly and springs into his bed, Liam knows this is about to be weird.

 

[Sabor a Mí (Taste of me)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YWjFrW1PRBw)

 

Suggestive enough for Liam to ignore the innuendo even though they both understand the language.

 

His hand reaches down and snatches Liam’s book out of his hands before tossing it clear across the room, the studying off to a great start.

 

Liam turns around slowly, unable to repress a smile.

 

This is what happens when Zayn wants attention. Everything that’s distracting Liam gets thrown out as he demands to be the only point of focus and if denied, only demands louder. If Liam continues to pretend like he doesn’t want to be bothered… well, he’s never had a desire to go that far before.

 

He climbs up into bed with Zayn, laying between his wide open legs that are offering their comfort to Liam as he rests his chin and arms over Zayn’s crotch.

 

For a while, he just watches Zayn smoke as he lights his bong and inhales from it in a manner that’s been intentionally made to look like he’s giving a blowjob.

 

If he’s ever wondered what Zayn’s mouth looked like sucking a head like that as his cheeks hollow and make his cheekbones pop obscenely.

 

So attractive. Always so easily and utterly _attractive_. And now Liam knows why he never smoked from this thing in front of him. Like eating a banana while making eye contact with someone.

 

The way he smokes pot is the exact same way he drinks. Like no other, only this is so much better.

 

Sensual in the way he moves his mouth, it makes Liam want to take Zayn’s lips into his as Zayn’s eyes slowly roll closed so he looks like a mirage through his smoke. The image of something that can’t be touched.

 

Untouchable boys still excite Liam after all these years. He supposed people always want what they can’t have. And old habits gave him the same hard-on.

 

It trickles out of Zayn’s parted lips beautifully, leaving his lips and going up through his nose in a French inhale like he’s drinking smoke before expelling in waves in the air above him and it’s so breathtaking how he never disappoints. All his forms beautiful like different pieces of art he lives and breathes as.

 

Liam could list over a dozen, weirdly non-sexual things about Zayn that will always turn him on because he just has a natural, aesthetically pleasing appeal even sitting there doing nothing but being watched and admired - reason number 1 for why he’d make a great model.

 

Watching his mouth even when he’s not talking. Eye contact from afar, in a crowded room and staring Liam down even when they’re both talking to other people. And now, sucking the soul out of a dick-shaped bong like it’s the epitome of pleasure. And Liam is sweating.

 

 _“God, it sure is hot in here.”_ He murmurs below Zayn, who opens one eye and glances down.

 

“... then why are you unbuttoning _my_ shirt?”

 

Liam snickers as he runs his hand up under Zayn’s top, over every ridge in his abs like he’s caressing something sacred.

 

_“Because you look hot and I’m already undressed.”_

 

Zayn laughs on it a little this time as he coughs out smoke, which makes Liam smile as he’s undoing Zayn’s shirt and kissing up his tatted black heart on his belly to the winged lips on his chest, even feeling the metallic against the tip of his tongue along the rod pierced through Zayn’s right nipple that he’d got done, high last year.

 

It’s always hot in here, even without the incense burning jasmine. Should be expected to be in hell.

 

Zayn nudges him in his side with his knee, motioning for Liam to come closer.

 

Liam eyes down his body after he’s got his shirt all the way open, seeing Zayn _rock_ hard under him as a thick, juicy line has grown along his inner thigh. Full on. Not even a semi or a half-chub just BAM, right there in his fucking face demanding his attention as loud and impolite as it damn well pleases because that what you should expect from Zayn.

 

It used to always please him whenever he thought of how he became that imaginary girlfriend of Zayn’s he was jealous of that got to be with him all the time. He wonders if any girls out there in the city are jealous of his roommate in the same way.

 

They should be. No matter who he’s ever with, he always comes home to this.

 

He looks back up at Zayn and bats his eyes.

 

_“... why should I cum up there instead of down here?”_

 

“Because I wanna show you something fun. But you have to come up here to get it.” He gestures to his lips.

 

“I can think of something more _fun_ to play with.”

 

Zayn’s stomach caves when Liam presses his lips against the tip of his dick.

 

_“Liam…”_

 

“You spread you legs out and wave it right in my face then fake me out?”

 

Zayn only puffs on his plastic dick with his eyes closed.

 

Liam rolls his as he carefully crawls up Zayn’s body, moving both his hands up along the sides of his thin waist line along the way, over to cupping his pecs until he’s sitting comfortably on his favourite seat, straddling Zayn’s boner right against the thin cotton between Liam’s cheeks, giving it a rubdown each time he moves.

 

He closes his eyes and meets Zayn’s lips with his own slightly parted.

 

He’s never smoked weed before but he feels like a rebellious teenager again. It was the last year he can say that now that he’ll be 20 soon.

 

That same shy, teenage boy he’s always been that hangs out with bad boys and lets them put whatever they want into his body and kisses in bed instead of studying for school as Zayn pulls him up closer, hooking under his chin so his head tilts up towards him more.

 

Zayn’s hands carry so much weight, gliding down Liam’s backside and disappearing below the fabric of his underpants and giving Liam’s cheeks a massage that makes him smile against his lips even though three skull rings on his fingers are unpleasantly cold. They’ll warm up eventually, like Zayn always did.

 

With an quick blow exchanged, the smoke shoots straight to Liam’s lungs as Zayn cuts it short and tells him to hold it in for a few seconds after swallowing. And the rumours are all right as Liam feels the effects right away.

 

Instantly, his head gets way too light and it feels like he’s going to fall off a cliff. He plants his forehead down on the red lips inked on Zayn’s chest as he’s unable to keep his balance and holds it while Zayn holds his back so he won’t fall out and he instructs him to blow.

 

“Take it _easy…_ you alive over there?”

 

Liam nods even though he feels like he’s choking to death as he lifts up and coughs into their pillow, much to Zayn’s amusement.

 

After he takes a softer blow, it doesn’t hit him as hard. One thing for certain is this tastes much better than a cigarette and goes down way smoother once he breathes again, Zayn’s cool breeze breath like inhaling beach air.

 

He feels like he’s relaxing on a tropical island, off somewhere on a romantic getaway as he tilts his head to the side and kisses Zayn’s neck leisurely like they’ve got all the time in the world.

 

They puff back and forth until Liam’s sure he won’t be getting out of bed for the rest of the week.

 

It reminds him of being on the Mediterranean coastline, chilling on his favourite beach back in France, the [ music ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vy8AHo3R-RM) fine for relaxing in the heat countered by the cooling rifts and watery sounds behind him. When he was so rabid to find love that he would throw himself at anything that blinked his way.

 

It all becomes beautifully vivid as his mind fills with a foggy haze. He throws himself at every colour, sound and taste. And Liam’s in love. With the air. With their room. And this druggie he can’t get enough of.

 

“What _is_ this stuff?” He laughs like he’s being tickled. “It’s fucking fabulous.”

 

“Hawaiian Gold bud.”

 

Maybe it’s just a coincidence but Liam starts to think Zayn did all this specifically so he can feel like he’s on a tropical island. The music, the flavour of this stuff. The _jasmine._ But then he quickly dismisses all that because why would Zayn go through all the trouble of going to that nasty place for Liam?

 

Zayn smiles as his eyebrows dance up when Liam exhales perfect rings out towards the ceiling

 

“Wow, look at _you,_ Mr. Show Off.”

 

Liam snickers and messes them up when Zayn watches like he’s in awe, wiping his mouth off and Zayn’s too with his thumb after shotgunning him.

 

“What’s Gold bud mean?”

 

He knows Zayn didn’t go to the Clink for just _weed._

 

_“Mary Jane laced with X.”_

 

He doesn’t know who Mary Jane is but he knows X very well.

 

“You are such a _prick.”_ Liam shakes his head into Zayn’s chest as Zayn laughs.

 

No wonder he’s feeling like fucking his brains out.

 

Ecstasy was the love drug.

 

“What do you take me for? Some cokehead party girl?”

 

“No. Cokehead parties girls aren’t cute. And they don’t swallow either.”

 

He would’ve punch him in the chest for that but his limbs feel to weak now as his body turns to jelly and his hands are too tied up in Zayn’s hair as he kissed him with all the eagerness his body allows him to exude.

 

 _“You know I don’t swallow anyone else, right?”_ Liam murmurs in his ear and Zayn pulls back with a grimace.

 

“Anyone _else?_ I don’t want to hear that shit. _”_

 

The laughter in Liam’s belly takes over again when Zayn turns his hips sideways to throw Liam off him while Liam is hysterical, laughing at Zayn’s tantrums whenever he mentions even a _hint_ of someone else even though he has to listen to Zayn’s stories all the time whenever he and Harry talk about their hottest fucks.

 

_“Such a jealous boy.”_

 

_“Says the dirty slut.”_

 

Several _very_ strong hits later and Liam can’t stop breaking into giggles as his chest bubbles, feeling like his head’s been inflated with air. Zayn lights it again one last time, Liam inhaling deeply before blowing out on his back as he rolls over laughing.

 

“You okay?” Zayn giggles, feeling the affects tickling him too. Liam shakes his head no with his eyes squeezed closed, unable to stop laughing.

 

_“I want doritos.”_

 

Zayn shakes his head as he puts down his bong to the side and wraps his arm around Liam’s waist.  
  
  
“You're faded as fuck, guy.”

 

The letters of the word fall behind his eyelids as he finds his eyes getting heavier and his body slowing down. Any second now, he’d be fading away completely.  
  
_  
_ _“What's faded mean?”_

 

  
“ _High_ .”  
  
  
_“Am I high?”_

 

_“You’re getting there. Freaky for the night.”_

 

  
_“Are you faded?”_ Liam tests out his new lingo.  
  
  
_“Been all day.”_  
  
  
Liam nods. He knew it. Zayn _stays_ high (or drunk) and while Liam didn’t love that, he was never this happy any other time so he lets himself enjoy it with him just as he would a drink.

  
  
_“Couldn’t wait to see you today.”_ Zayn adds

 

_“Yeah, what was up with that? I heard you almost died.”_

 

_“So?”_

 

_“So you value seeing me over your life?”_

 

 _  
_ _“Of course.”_

 

He didn’t appreciate Zayn mocking him as he rolls his eyes even though he can feel both of their guards dropping to dangerously low levels. So low, Liam asks another question.

 

_“Who’s meri jaan?”_

 

He meant to say Mary Jane but, his mind must’ve been somewhere else.

 

Zayn’s eyes narrow as the question throws him, blinking a few times like he’s not registering it completely.

 

“Ummm…” His mouth hangs open for a few seconds, closing and opening with any words the first few times.

 

“I… d-don’t know.” He finally stutters out. “That’s kind of your decision.”

 

 _“Oh.”_ Liam nods down with a short laugh, closing his eyes as they both go quiet for a moment as he moves little circles up and down Zayn’s tattoos on his sleeve.

 

Zayn taps his nose to get his attention.

 

“... why did you ask me that?”

 

Liam shrugs, moving his finger in circles around Zayn’s belly button now.

 

 _“Dunno.”_ he says honestly.

 

They both stare up at the ceiling like they’re in a daze.

 

“Someone used to call my mother that.” Zayn answers after a pause. “Then she called me that.”

 

_“Why?”_

 

Zayn snorts as his fingers weave through Liam’s hair. His brows wrinkle as they both stare at the ceiling as he thinks about that seriously.

 

 _“Don’t know.”_ He shrugs eventually. _“She wasn’t sober enough to ever mean it. She couldn’t remember my name half the time anyways. She called me all kinds of names that weren’t mine.”_

 

They both laugh as they hug each other with Zayn’s chin hooked over Liam’s head although, it wasn’t funny at all as he gets a weird feeling that he’s saying his mother didn’t really love him.

 

Liam had no idea that Zayn’s mother had a problem with sobriety too.

 

In the back of his mind, he cares. Also in the back of his mind, he’s singing a love song for all of them and wishing it were reality.

 

It was always nice how this never remains strictly platonic enough to be friends or passionate enough to be a full on romance, the chemistry always remaining just below the surface and never out of reach. It was located in some strange grey area they lost the map too a long time ago though, they’d always remember how to get here after so many trips down this lane.

 

As Zayn prodding through Liam’s hair with another gentle massage, another question pops up in Liam’s head before he can fall asleep.

 

 _  
_ _“Why are we never like this sober?”_ _  
_  
_  
_ _“How about we stop talking.”_ Zayn mumbles in his hair.

 

 _“Nooo,”_ Liam pulls back with a laugh when Zayn tries to kiss him.

 

_“I like to talk to you.”_

 

Zayn rolls his eyes up with a dramatic groan, squeezing Liam’s shoulder up with him.

 

_“Can’t we just…”_

 

He trailed off as he gestures to what they were doing now, holding each other while listening to Latin jazz music from the 60s.

 

That trail off seemed like the exact way to describe what they were doing and something inside Liam suddenly needed real words rather than actions and vague gestures that could mean anything.

 

“What exactly _is_ this…?” He finds himself asking.

 

Zayn narrows his blood-shot eyes and leans into Liam, who’s bashfully turning his cheek away from Zayn trying to kiss him.

 

 _“This?”_ Zayn says into his cheek as he kisses where his birthmark is there along with the rest that are covering his neck.

 

Liam pulls back completely.

 

_“Why do you do this to me?”_

 

_“Do what?”_

 

_“You know what.”_

 

Zayn turns on his side so they’re face to face in bed now, trapping Liam in his arms so he doesn’t get too far away.

 

_“Because we can do whatever we want.”_

 

Liam nods to the stereo.

 

“You _hate_ my music. Why are you--”

 

“WHY did I buy you _this?_ WHY do I play _that,_ why do I do _blah blah._ Why, why, why, why, why, _why...”_

 

Zayn closes his eyes as he starts laughing.

 

For one instant, Liam can’t tell if he’s just saying that to emphasis how annoying Liam is or if he’s asking _himself_ that.

 

_“You love that letter so fucking much--”_

 

“What letter?”

 

_“The letter Y.”_

 

Liam doesn’t like the letter. He hates it and would like if it was never necessary to exist in this small bedroom. They could hardly fit two people in here, let alone all the mixed signals in the world.

 

It occurs to him then as he watches Zayn dose off that Zayn might not know either. Or maybe he’s just trying to tell Liam not to think about it too deeply.

 

When he’s sure Zayn has fallen asleep after his breath evens out, he traces over the freckles splashed down Zayn’s nose with his middle finger grazing the very edge of his soft skin. They stand out in a perfect shade of brown against his olive skin that Liam loves to watch turn to honey when he steps into sunlight just the same as his eyes until he becomes a literal golden boy wearing the sunset on his face, topped off when he smiles as he traces his smile lines around his cheeks.

 

He goes over the peach fuzz under his chin, feeling his gentle breathing tickling against his hand, smiling as he traces down to his bottom lip and over his cupid’s bow, the lips he’s kissed over a million times that the shape of them has imprinted on Liam’s memory for life.

 

He touches the bags he carries under his eyes that make him look tired all day and creases where his frown lines would appear like cracks in his body. The blonde tufts of hair falling over his lashes from where the bleach stripped away his colour and every wild lash that’s fallen loose onto his cheeks like dark pieces of feathers.

 

All of it blurs together in a tapestry of a very complex boy that only get more complex just below the surface of it all.

 

Something tells him if Zayn was an angel, his wings would be black. Like that hole deep inside of him he sometimes sees through his eyes.

 

There was so much outer detail about him Liam was still intimidated and awed by. So many details inside him holding a darkness that he doesn’t understand why he can never make go away. More details than any painting he’s ever studied or street map in the city or melody he’s ever tried to memorise how to sing and dance to. Zayn didn’t come with easy instructions and a guide like those things did. He came with nothing but this beautiful shell Liam has yet to crack open.

 

Those were the only comparisons that upheld anything close to what Zayn was because it didn’t seem like a normal person in this bed. More like an ornate piece of work someone created and left behind to hang around in his room in a song only Liam got to dance to in private even if he didn’t understand all the words no matter how much he felt he knew by heart. It was still something foreign to him and always would be.

 

Zayn was something abstract and elusive. A language he couldn’t quite understand fluently. Here but still slightly untouchable no matter how much Liam tries to get a hold of him.

 

He wonders how someone could be so close to him that he now carries his scent and taste in on his lips and tongue, even in his _lungs_ but still… slightly out of his reach even in his arms.

 

He looks at Zayn and sees him as he is here now, knowing there’s someone else in there he’s afraid he’ll never know the answer for.

 

He suddenly hates this and everything it reminds him of. Who Zayn reminds him of as he wonders why the unavailable is so alluring.

 

He hates that he’ll only get this _illusion_ that he has Zayn when in reality… this isn’t really what it looks like at all, even to an onlooker and Zayn is never really his because unlike Liam, Zayn is never truly here.

 

Always either out of his mind and body. Out of bounds. And out of his league.

 

Just as he’s starting to tear up, Liam gasps when Zayn’s eyes open and refocus on Liam’s face again, not asleep at all as he smiles at Liam’s wide eyes.

 

He crosses his eyes to look at Liam’s finger still on his nose, which he quickly retracts.

 

_“Why are you staring at me like a deer in headlights?”_

 

Liam blinks, eyes darting bewteen Zayn’s, shaking his head once.

 

“Because… I’m still not used to you.”

 

He takes Liam’s hand into his and waffles their fingers together.

 

“But I’m here everyday.”

 

“You still don’t seem entirely real.”

 

Zayn pinches him in response.

 

“OW!”

 

“That feel real?”

 

Liam groans, pushing off him with a grimace as he’s holding his arm as he scoots to climb out of bed although he only does this so Zayn doesn’t see that he’s wiping tears from his eyes when he turns his head away.

 

.

“ _Why are you such a douchebag to me--_ ”

 

 _“Wait, don’t go. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to hurt you.”_ Zayn laughs as he pulls him back into him.

 

Liam still ends up smiling when Zayn murmurs over and over that he’s sorry through cheek kisses.

 

 _“I never want to hurt you.”_ He whispers into Liam and he caves finally.

 

“Alright. _Alright!”_ He giggles settling back into his arms again.

 

 _“Please, don’t hurt me.”_ Liam asks him quietly, so quiet he might not hear him although he wants to beg him and make him promise he never will.

 

 _“Why would anyone want to hurt you?”_ Zayn whispers to his lips.

 

_“I wish no one could hurt you.”_

 

Liam looks up at him now.

 

_“I wish sad things never happened to you.”_

 

Zayn laughs at that as he blinked a few times, shaking his head a little.

 

_“Well, that’s just life, sweetheart.”_

 

_“Call me that again.”_

 

He does, whispering the name into Liam like a promise as nips at his lips and Liam closes his eyes in content. He would’ve been fine with just kissing for the rest of this life.

 

“Do you do that often, Li?”

 

_“Do what?”_

 

Liam lays his head back down on Zayn’s bare heart, feeling him breath as his chest beats fast, rising and falling.

 

There wasn’t a more peaceful sound than Zayn’s beating heart.

 

“Touch me like that. With your fingers when I sleep.”

 

Liam shakes his head no even though it’s a lie. He’s traced the frame of Zayn’s face over a thousand times. He could write it in braille if he tried. But lying nonverbally is so easy.

 

He wishes other things were as easy as lying here without words.

 

“Bummer.”

 

_“Why’s that a bummer?”_

 

“Cause it felt nice.” Zayn shrugs nuzzling up the side of his neck to his ear with his sweet kisses.

 

“You’ve got real supple skin.”

 

“Supple? Who says _that--!”_ Liam shrieks when Zayn suddenly gets on top on him.

 

_“I do.”_

 

He doesn’t know suddenly made wasting another day with Zayn seem so enjoyable but, it felt like they wouldn’t be watching Queen of the Damned or running errands tonight.

 

Zayn takes over and eats away at his neck like Dracula, laughing at Liam’s giggling as he’s ravishing his body while the love drug kicked in enough for him to forget his inhibitions he’d been clinging too like a life preserver.

 

Unfortunately, the love drug takes his filter with it.

 

 _“Why do you like me?”_ Liam blurts out, killing himself with this fucking letter.

 

He can pretend like it doesn’t drive him crazy but he just _needs to know._

 

He couldn’t hold it in, something of a gasp from Zayn stabbing his gut with the hard line in his pants and a spur of emotion getting to inflated as it spills out.

 

Also, Gigi staring at him on their wall. There was a bit of an overload going on in his body right now that a lot of overstimulation in this room was egging on.

 

_“Hmmmm… cause you taste like a cigarette. They’re kinda addictive, uno?”_

 

He doesn’t like that answer.

 

Zayn makes Liam’s throat vibrate ticklishly with that annoying sound he makes like he’s humming a raspberry that has Liam pushing his face off as he’s laughing but not far away enough for Zayn’s lips to leave his skin.

 

_“Zee… Seriously.”_

 

Zayn finally opens his eyes all the way and his lashes touch Liam’s as he looks down at him.

 

“I like the way you look.”

 

_“On my back?”_

 

“No.” Zayn blinks once, his little feathery hairs brushing down Liam’s nose with each blink.

 

“How you look every day.”

 

Liam lets Zayn’s hands lock behind his back.

 

“I like how you don’t flinch away when I touch you. When we’re alone.” His expression looks more serious now as he holds Liam like he’s testing for himself how it feels when Liam doesn’t flinch out of his grasp. Liam swallows the dryness in his throat.

 

_“Yeah?”_

 

Zayn nods with a hum into him.

 

“I like that you live with me so I get to see you all the time. Watch you dance around in your underwear to your weird music and touch me wherever you want, when you don’t think I know.”

 

Chills are shooting up and down Liam’s entire body with Zayn’s every word as he watches his mouth until he’s licking against his tongue and giving his lip a suckle as they start fully kissing now, holding Zayn’s face in his palms as he falls into Liam.

 

He could feel his heart hammering away against Zayn’s chest, who’s is reciprocating the wild dance as Liam is adorning his face with smooches on top of smooches in between out of the blue whimpers that escape each time they pull tighter, he continues to list every detail about Liam that he likes.

 

_“I like how you give me kisses when you’re nervous and hold me when you’re scared.”_

 

_“I do not.”_

 

_“Yeah you do, liar.”_

 

He can feel himself swelling against Zayn, his favourite part about all of this closeness they bring out of each other.

 

The throbbing between them when both their hearts are racing. When it gets to pulsing like a drum beat the faster they’re worked up and engorged with a carnal _need_ for each other until the only direction they can go is into their bodies like they just suck each other in.

 

He wants to feel it from the inside. He _needs_ to now.

 

He opens Liam’s legs beneath him and pushes between them, pushing out a quiet moan from Liam’s lips against his as he’s bringing up the backs of Liam’s bare thigh with his fingertips so his legs bend up around his waist, caging Zayn in.

 

_“I like how you hug me in your sleep. And mumble my name when you’re dreaming--”_

 

Liam covers his mouth.

 

 _“Okay. I get it.”_ He gasps. _“Please_ just…”

 

_Make love to me._

 

He trails off but it seems like that’s just the mute language they speak because Zayn does everything he wants him to do right after.

 

They’ve only come this close to making love a few times but never have they gone ast Park Avenue. Zayn usually stops them from going any further than third base because they’re usually drunk and would probably regret it. But he wasn’t stopping right now.

 

In fact, his clothes were coming off too as Liam’s hands are sliding down sweaty flesh on Zayn’s warm back instead of fabric after he pulls his shirt off from over his head so his hair flops up wildly. Meanwhile, the only piece of fabric Liam has on slides right off next so he’s not the only one totally exposed and baring all.

 

He always liked being naked with Zayn. He never made him feel weird, even when he stared at weird things like the birthmarks on his thighs or any other mark on him he covers.

 

Neither of them are drunk. Really fucking high maybe but their coordination has never been more in control as Zayn flips Liam onto his stomach in a single, swift motion that knocks him a little breathless before he’s pulls Liam down underneath him. Liam can’t even feel his heart beating anymore.

 

_“Let’s see who lasts 5 minutes.”_

 

Liam starts to freak because that person will _not_ be him as what’s happening suddenly seems like they’re going way too fast.

 

They didn’t plan this as they never do. But Zayn has never kissed his ass like he is doing right now and he most _definitely_ has never put his dick in anything that wasn’t already wet and self-lubricating.

 

Liam _knows_ Zayn said he doesn’t want to hurt him but if he moves an inch further, _he will_ and Liam will scream as Zayn reaches down below the bed for a condom.

 

_“WAIT, STOP!”_

 

He scares Zayn when he shouts out like he’s been attacked, stopping just as Liam sees that he was _actually_ reaching down to his bag beside on the ground and pulling out a little white bottle of something that smells sweet and tropical like Jasmine.

 

“WHAT?!” Zayn panics too, sitting up quickly.

 

“I’m sorry, is this--,” He closes his eyes hard and scoots away from Liam.

 

“Too much, yeah, I’m sorry. I knew I was going too far--”

 

“Wait,” Liam smiles, holding his heart. “Is that _Chanel?”_

 

Leave it to Zayn to find lube in Liam’s favourite brand. Which means he spent _thousands_ today. But Liam doesn’t even care anymore as he leans up and throws his arms around Zayn’s neck to kiss him again, laughing as he calls him crazy.  
  
  
“The Russian liquor store sells that too?” He teases him and he shakes his head no without telling Liam that he actually went to an Adult den.  
  
  
“Told you you'd like it.”

 

Zayn pulls him up closer and slides his hand down Liam’s rear end as their foreheads fall against each other.

 

He knew Zayn was planning something but not _this._ It all makes sense now.

 

He tells Liam he wants to try something they’ve never done before as they don’t need a condom and all that’s all Liam needs to hear as he’s already been up for it.

 

Both of them, very on the up and _up._

 

_“Tell me what feels good, okay?”_

 

Liam nods against him as he sucks in his breath sharply right before Zayn kisses him deeply, telling Liam he always wants him to feel good, and sexy. And he does, being showered with all the appreciation. It feels _very_ good.  
  
  
It turns out, he did like it. Very, _very_ much.  
  
  
_“You okay?”_

 

Liam nods a little against him, both his hands keeping himself upright on Zayn’s shoulders as he pushes himself back and forth in Zayn’s lap, rolling his hips in at an angle to try to get the tip of his finger to touch that one _spot_ inside him that will make this less like an awkward hand ride and more of the blissful, mind-blowing opening up it was supposed to be.

 

After a minute, he decides that Zayn is going to have to help him reach it because he can’t on his own as he turns around so his back is against Zayn’s chest like he’s doing a reverse cowgirl.

 

This turns out to be harder than riding a dick. In fact, neither of them have ever done this with _anyone_ before.

 

_“Take your… index finger a little… d-deeper.”_

 

Liam starts to direct him like they’re on set.

 

Zayn follows his instruction very attentively without hurting him as he pushed deep bit by bit, slowing down each time Liam tenses around him with a quiet hiss. They carry on like that for a minute or two in a series of sounds overlapping with words until it’s all just the same word over and over.

 

It starts with the letter Y.

 

 _Good_.

 

_Right there._

 

_Yes._

 

_A little less pressure._

 

_Yes. There we are._

 

_Two fingers._

 

_Three… y e s s s_

 

_“Wait,”_

 

He goes deeper and they both feel it finally.

 

_YES!_

 

Liam’s mind _screams_ it as he bites down on his lip with his eyes squeezed closed and his head throws back with a choked up moan, riding on it again while Zayn’s lips lather up his neck from behind.

 

They continue the dance together.

 

_A little higher._

 

_Yes, yes, Y E S._

 

_A little bit more to the left._

 

_That ridge? Right there._

 

_Yes there._

 

 _Keep it …. right there._ _Right there._ _Righ--_....  
  
_  
__“... y-yES,”_

 

 _“Holy shit.”_ Zayn’s voice pops up below him.

 

Liam, sweating, trembling and holding the wall above his head as he’s standing on his knees, glances down, pissed as hell that Zayn fucking _stopped_ just when--

 

_“What?”_

 

“You've got a blonde hair on your ass.”

 

  
“What?!”

 

The most unexpectedly disturbing thing he’d ever been told was, not that he had a hairy ass but, a _blonde_ hairy ass.

 

Liam tries to move and close his legs but Zayn keeps them wide open as he’s underneathe him and it’s then Liam notices just how close he is to sitting on Zayn’s face.

 

He’s positioned like a mechanic underneath a car, studying the details inside of Liam’s Holy Grail as he’s making his way through the Cathedral with the look of pure awe on his face like he’s seeing something that amazes him which would’ve been precious if the circumstances weren’t so awkward.

 

Liam doesn’t like him looking this closely at his ass and seeing something alien. He wants him to see something sexy and edible and--

 

“I do! Just hold still,” He cuts Liam’s panic off.

 

His hand brushes across Liam’s left cheek, along the peach fuzz there and Liam laugh with furrows brows.

 

“What are you _doing?”_ He starts giggling again.

 

Zayn’s concentrated expression turns upside down like he’s found a broken pipe down there.  
  
  
“Liam seriously. _Hold. Still.”_

 

He pinches Liam’s flesh too hard and Liam jerks up higher.  
  
  
“Ow!” Liam hits his shoulder.

 

“Don’t you want me to get rid of it?  
  
  
“No! You can't just pluck one a keep going, 6 more will come to it's fucking funeral! Just leave my hairs to die alone!”

 

Zayn’s cool breath tickles his inner thigh as he laughs with his eyes closed.  
  
  
“This isn't funny!”  
  
  
“No.” He looks up at Liam, upside down. “But you are.”

 

He pulls Liam down on top of him so he sits lower.

 

“Just settle down.” He smiles as his face dips up into him.

 

“You can have it all to yourself _later_.”

 

He actually plants a sweet kiss directly on Liam’s asshole and a maelstrom erupts in his ribs.

 

He couldn’t have picked a better day to go deep-cleaning, Zayn lapping up his favourite flavour like he’s licking ice cream and Liam wants to cry in rejoice because nothing felt sweeter.

 

It’s a whisper of something in his guts, both turbulent like a powerful gush of wind from a whirlpool and gentle like the opening of a blooming rose as Zayn has now fully opened Liam’s flower and found the golden promise land that makes Liam sing like a canary.

 

His tongue, soft to the touch and flat enough to smooth along any curved surface, rolls from the back to the front in a steady motion as he tests the waters without stopping as his lips drag across the dip too.

 

Liam isn’t sure if Zayn does it on purpose or not but, he also licks underneath his balls on the way up and the sensation as he sucks bewteen them a little makes him want to cry, wondering what he did to deserve this.

 

He doesn’t stay there too long, going back down to the main focus again.

 

Liam was too focused with not crunching Zayn’s face between his thighs and wondering too much if he’s doing this correctly to truly enjoy himself but, he doesn’t want to crush or smother him. He forces himself not to sit all the way by holding onto the wall in front of him and testing the limits of how long his thighs can hold this damned position while Zayn eats away at a leisurely pace.

 

He’s never wondered about the strength of his knees before but, it turns out they are weakened very easily. Enough to shatter upon impact, be it a soft gust of air that hits him now or hammer.

 

He’s gonna blow at any second and ruin everything.

 

Zayn finds his way without any instruction now, always a fast learner as he swirls around the rim until he enters Liam just _slightly_ and sends a jolt up through his spinal cord to release what he thinks is spinal fluids from his dick. Zayn’s hands cage up under Liam’s thighs when he spazzes, holding them still to keep Liam in place on his face.

 

Seeing the reaction it got, he keeps rolling his tongue with the sudden eagerness to get as much of the taste as his tongue will reach and Liam can’t hold up for much longer.

 

Maybe he should’ve been trying to watch Zayn eat him out but he couldn’t even breathe without it coming out in spurts like he’s drowning, let alone open his eyes or close his mouth for longer than 2 seconds as it keeps falling back open and letting out a song he’d never sung before, words that have no meaning he knows and swears he never said out loud unless he was in pain which Zayn rightfully takes as to keep doing _exactly_ what he’s doing now, making his tongue stiff and long.

 

Liam then realises that’s what he’s saying.

 

_Keep going… keep g o i n g._

 

_Yes._

 

_Y E S_

 

He’s not as gentle as when he started, rimming in and out as if he wants Liam to fully know he is his oasis, spreading him apart further with a grip that feels close to tearing Liam with his tongue in the same position Liam could be fucked in until he’s tapping out against the wall.

 

He finally sits fully rides Zayn’s tongue all the way inside him, rocking back and forth the same way he imagines riding his dick as he closes his eyes and slowly gyrates in a small circle with one hand behind his back, holding Zayn’s hand so he can ride his face without falling and the holding the wall as his stomach as rolls up and down with his cheeks spread across Zayn’s chin and prodding his ridge inside over and over fast until he finally busts.

 

All over the pillow. On the previously clean sheet. A little of the wall. The orgasm is too intense to remember to aim.

 

When you’re rolling down a wet and velvet, warm male mouth, aiming is the last thing on your mind. Zayn never let him be shy when they were like this. Cum as hard as he needed to, moan as deeply as he wanted to, screaming whatever the fuck decided to come out.

 

There was no judgement for how either of them got off.

 

It’s always a journey with him. Starting off calm and easy before it turns into an adventure with twists of all kinds, surprising him at where they end up as Zayn keeps him busting several nuts on top until it’s all over when he finally falls back, panting to get a grip back on his life again.

 

He doesn’t register Zayn getting up and cleaning everything he befouled, gently pulling the sheet out from under Liam, spanking his ass as he does so and tossing it out, casually getting their laundry and wiping down surfaces, doing chores like that didn’t just happen out of the blue.

 

Maybe not completely out of the blue. He obviously planned on doing that to Liam when he walked in after going to an Adult shop earlier and he seems pretty satisfied with himself.

 

It just feels like it all happened way earlier than it was supposed to. No dinner and wine or movie they’d eventually would’ve disregarded for each other. No lights out or candles lit for the mood.

 

Just in the middle of a random afternoon. Like no big deal.

 

He’s kind of disappointed they skipped all that this time. Even if it was fun. He didn’t take anything from it other than something completely casual now that it’s over as Zayn doesn’t even say anything to him about it after.

 

He really hates these post-nut after thoughts when his head is in a funny place, set to panic about nothing. He forces himself to stop thinking about it. He just got the most out of a hook-up with Zayn he thinks he’s ever had. He’s gonna ride this high for all it was worth without ruining it.

 

Liam stays on his back in a heated stupor, staring at the white ceiling until he can feel his toes again.

 

He’s so fucking high. He doesn’t know if that was the longest orgasm of his life or if he’s just having a really good high as he feels like he’s came for 5 minutes straight now.

 

He wipes off the sweat beading on his forehead and glances back at Zayn, sitting at their desk and rolling a bifter with a smirk on his face as he nods to whatever rap song he’s listening to with his headphones in.

 

He can hear the lyrics a little from the bed, someone rapping about ‘ _sipping Dom P’_ and _‘watching Gandhi’._

 

 _‘.... behold the mic I'm throbbin', mechanical movement_ _  
_ _understandable smooth shit that murderers move with,’_

 

Liam turns over on his belly, pulling the blanket over his body as he waves to get Zayn’s attention so he pulls out one earbud with raised brows.

 

 _“What are you grinning at?”_ He mumbles as he gets comfortable again.

 

Zayn snickers, shaking his head and putting his headphone back in as he goes back to gathering the weed in his paper.

 

“ _Tell me,”_

 

“You called me _zaddy_.” He answers finally.

 

_“What?”_

 

That slaps the haze back out of Liam.

 

“No I didn’t-- _”_

 

“ _Liam_ ,” Zayn looks at him with raised brows, pausing in licking his strip closed.

 

“You totally screamed that when you came, dude. It was fucking hilarious.”

 

Liam looks away from him, trying to recount everything he remembers from 5 minutes ago but most of it is a surreal blur.

 

“Anyone ever done that to you before?” Zayn asks now, uber casual.

 

Liam only shrugs, not wanting to look at Zayn or be so naked right now, now that he’s asking him things he doesn’t want to talk about.

 

“What does _that_ mean?”

 

Liam rolls his eyes to himself.

 

 _“I dunno!”_ His voice goes a little high pitched.

 

“Once or twice maybe?”

 

“Maybe?”

  
  
“Yes.” He sits up and rubs his face down, sex-haze over with as gut rot crawls.

 

“ _Maybe_. Who cares?”

 

“Who was better? I can do it again if you’re not sure.”

 

Liam looks over at him now with squinted eyes, shaking his head.

 

_“Why?”_

 

“Because it was fun--”

 

“No, why are you _asking_ me this?”

 

He’s not used to Zayn being this talkative when he isn’t drunk. It was obvious when he never came because he’d be in a really bad mood otherwise.

 

Now, Liam’s the one in the off mood.

 

He hates this whole conversation and this weird feeling he has in here now that that’s just happened without an ounce of significance to anything.

 

As he’s overthinking everything, Zayn brings his attention back again.

 

“Why are you getting pissed with _me? You_ said you wanted to talk.” He shrugs,

 

“You can ask me shit but I can't ask you anything? I mean, when do you _ever_ tell me about you? Never.”

 

“I am the most boring person you know. Boring personality, boring past life. Boring, boring, boring.”

 

Zayn puts down his cigarette with a flat mouth as he tilts his head sideways, like he just knows Liam is bullshitting him.

 

“You’ve got more personalities than everyone I know combined. And I don’t know anyone else who’s lived on 5 different coastal fronts in one lifetime, let alone before they’re even 20 years old so, your definition of boring is my definition of intriguing.”

 

Liam pulls up his underpants and a t-shirt now, closing his eyes as he swallows a lump in his throat.

 

“I rarely think about the past.” He finally says,

 

“I'm more interested in today. This moment, right now.”

 

He looks at Zayn after he’s pulled his sweats up.  
  
  
“Been that way for a while.”

 

Zayn lights his new joint now and scoots back in the chair, crossing his arms as he watches Liam with his full attention again.  
  
  
“Really.”  
  
  
“For about a year, yeah.” Liam nods honestly.

 

“Well, we’re talking _now_ aren’t we?”

 

After they stare for a few seconds in silence, he turns away with closed eyes.

 

He knows he shouldn’t be upset right now… but he is. He doesn’t feel like talking anymore.

 

He feels Zayn move across the room and is relieved he doesn’t come back to Liam’s side. He opens his eyes when the sound of his feet across the carpet stops again.

 

“I’m only doing what I thought you wanted. Is that wrong now?”

 

He finds him sitting in his bed.

 

With Liam in _Zayn’s,_ he is reminded of when they did this in reverse last year like it’s the annual awkward conversation with a total stranger. So close to each other, yet just as far away as when they started.

 

Liam suddenly wants to keep it that way. He has a better idea than talking.

 

“Can I ask you something?”

 

Zayn shrugs.

 

“Go ahead.”

 

“Did you cum?”

 

Zayn shakes his head no with a smile.

 

“Well, _there's_ something worth focusing on.”

 

Liam crawls over to his side and gets on his knees in front of him.

 

“You know, you don't _always_ have to do this, _”_

 

“But I like doing it. And I want you to feel good too.”

 

He hesitates so Liam does too, fear creeping up for moment that he’s going to say _no_ until Zayn leans back finally.

 

He watches Liam, astute as he smoke with one hand and leans back on the other while Liam gets his zipper down and reaches in.

 

He asks Zayn if he’ll cum for him this time and he nods yes. He’s not completely hard anymore so, Liam gets to enjoy the build up of him filling up in his hand and getting hard in his mouth until he’s almost choking.

 

Honestly, if you’re not choking on it, what the fuck are you doing? He’s learned that some guys love it, like it’s music to their ears to make someone gag and nearly die. But Zayn doesn’t. Not after the first time. He doesn’t even look at Liam once he starts really sucking.

 

He’ll watch him lick up his entire dick like a lollipop and smirk at him when Liam jerks him off while kneading his fingertips along the sides but once the good part starts and it’s all in Liam’s mouth, he’ll close his eyes with his head hanging back and keep it like that until he’s finished.

 

Liam massages every ridge around with his lips, moving them up and down each spot like he’s sucking on a popsicle stick on a hot day and trying to get as much of the flavour off that there is. He swivels his tongue over the top and swallows every juice that he gets off and sucks on the way to the very tip as it’s throbbing bewteen his lips and sliding across the skin, back down to the bottom of his throat where the very tip again gets to feel the vibrations of his neck humming.

 

Just as Liam said, he lasts less than 30 seconds.

 

When Zayn climaxes, it is the most gratifying experience of the entire ordeal because he doesn’t do it with Liam very often, usually pulling out before he explodes and finishing himself off.

 

He never thrusts wildly and splatters all in Liam's mouth like he used to or cry out in ecstasy even if he’s high on it.

 

His fingers loosen at tufts of hair on the back of Liam's head, finally letting go of the tension he’s holding in as his mouth parts right as this sound comes out, like a sound you'd gasp out when you see something that takes your breath away and that’s all Liam manages to get out of him today.

 

It goes straight down Liam's throat while he gets to have his mutual one as well without even needing to touch himself just from the intense feeling of how close they are. Even if it’s never close enough, it’s the most he’s ever felt to another person since probably his surrogate birthed him.  
  
  
He always thinks of the first thing Zayn ever said to him as Zayn falls back on the bed with a tired exhale while Liam back lays on the ground.

 

He wonders if they ever would've had this in their room if Liam hadn't taken that shot or if a single moment had been different that day, like either of them never going to that party or if someone had left early so they would’ve come home to each other without knowing this first, how different would everything be.  
  
  
He likes to pretend that it's not about the fact that they're just casually getting off a few loads with each other. Even if he never says it, it was so much more than that to Liam. He hoped so for Zayn too. Even if he never says it either.

 

Liam is back in Zayn’s bed after so they lay across from each other for a long while in complete silence.

 

Zayn doesn’t always need space afterwards but, Liam gets the feeling he does today.

 

“I love your penis.” He says into the air and Zayn throws a pillow at him.

 

“Shut up, Liam.” Zayn shakes his head at the ceiling with an irritated sigh, his eyes starting to seep really low like usual again when he turns his back away.

 

“I’m sorry.” He laughs with a slight frown, not meaning to piss him off.

 

“You don’t have to be sorry.” Zayn mumbles.

 

“Just keep it to myself.” Liam finishes for him and Zayn looks back at him as his hand dangles off the edge.

 

“Did I _say_ that?”

 

“Yeah.” Liam nods. “You have.”

 

He was pretty silent now for someone that hadn’t been able to shut up today. Maybe that was the goal Liam subconsciously had in mine. He’s not stupid. He knows what having an orgasm does to Zayn. But him being high on X and saying all that stuff he wouldn’t normally say was freaking him out.

 

As Zayn stares at the Gigi wall above Liam, he goes on and asks him the forbidden question.

 

“Are you sorry?”

Zayn squints at the wall.

 

“What?”

 

“I said are you sorry?”

 

“Sorry about _what?”_

 

“That I do this to you.”

 

Zayn rolls his eyes to the ceiling.

 

“Liam, what the hell are you even _talking_ about--”

 

“You _know_ what I’m talking about.” he sits up when Zayn shakes his head and reaches for a his flask from his pocket.

 

“Why are you so obsessed with this?” He mumbles as he takes a drink.

 

“I already told you, it’s fine. Jesus, you know, sometimes you’re just like a fuckin’--”

 

“If you say _girl_ , I’ll kill you.” Liam warns and Zayn laughs, sitting up too.

 

“Dude, you _do_ know this is just casual... right?”

 

The word literally triggers shock in Liam. He doesn’t even think he just heard him say that.  
  
  
_“What?”_  
  
  
“Me and you doin’ this.”  
  
  
It suddenly became as if they weren't speaking the same language.  
  
  
"Doing this?" Liam repeated, trying not to change his tone as he was suddenly feeling swelling in his throat.  
  
  
"What does that even mean?"  
  
  
Zayn froze with cautious brows like how sales associates do when an over emotional customer walks in and starts to make a scene.  
  
  
He starts talking slow, like he's trying not to upset a rabid animal.  
  
  
"It means I'm starting to think you're taking _this_ as something it's _not_."

 

“Do you not remember any of last year?”

 

“I have been off my ass every day since last year, I can barely remember an hour ago.”  
  
  
Liam squashed the throb in his throat as the air was getting much thinner than he noticed a few minutes ago. He wanted to open the window and jump out of it but, they didn’t open wide enough for anyone to get out that way anymore.  
  
  
Maybe an over emotional response was threatening to burst out of him but, he refused to let his eyes tear up.

 

He knew it. He _fucking_ knew it.  
  
  
"Liam," Zayn sighed as he rubbed down his face like he’s exhausted.  
  
  
"You just keep… _doing_ this," Liam cut him off before he could dare tell Liam not to start crying.

 

“And I _let_ you.”

 

He wasn’t getting angry at Zayn. He was angry at _himself_ for confusing the fantasy with reality no matter how many times he lied and told himself he wanted an answer in the exact way Zayn was giving him one.

 

“What is _wrong_ with me?”  
  
  
"There’s nothing _wrong_ with you! You freaking out on me right now is just telling me you're doing something that I don't have the energy for."  
  
  
_Don't raise your voice. Don't raise your voice._

 

Liam's voice rose anyways.  
  
  
"You don't have the energy to talk now after _begging_ me to an hour ago?"  
  
  
"Don’t even act like you don't know what the fuck _I'm_ talking about."

 

Now Zayn was getting pissed off as his eyes closed when his temple pulsed.  
  
  
"You keep getting pissy with me every time this happens now because of something I barely even remember doing 100 years ago so, let me just make my answer perfectly clear: I'm not what you _think_ I am. I'm not your boyfriend. I just like my dick licked. And you like to lick it. _That's_ ‘us’.”

 

He was such a liar, Liam couldn’t stand it. Maybe Liam was a liar too when he went outside or felt someone else’s eyes looking his way but at least he didn’t lie to _himself_ .  
  
  
He couldn't believe any of what he was hearing right now. It felt unreal that they were having this conversation after a year of ignoring it, he almost thinks he’s hallucinating as he can’t even remember how they went from all over each other to silence to now straight up yelling at each other.

 

So many months for it all to come down to a huge fight.

 

  
Yeah, he asked for it but being told what he already knew was a whole lot uglier than it looked from a distance.

 

"Liam," Zayn toned down his voice when Liam wiped his eyes.  
  
  
"Liam don't cry--"  
  
  
"I'm not crying!"  
  
  
We established that Liam was a shit liar. Zayn put down his flask and got up to hand Liam a tissue he took and dabbled into his non-tears.  
  
  
"I'm not saying you don’t mean anything to me. I just want you to understand--"  
  
  
"Yeah, I get it." He nodded. "No feelings whatsoever."

 

They were quiet for a moment before Zayn finally nodded.  
  
  
"Okay."  
  
  
"And anyways,” Liam moved on with rolled eyes.

 

“I'm not _gay_ either. This is... it's fun."  
  
  
Zayn looked at him with raised brows like Liam had just announced that he was allergic to semen and he burst out laughing with his eyes closed.  
  
  
"I'm serious!"  
  
  
"Okay dude, whatever." Zayn rolled his eyes as well, to the side as he went to take another drink from his flask with a hiccup.

 

  
"You don't have to hide the fact that you're gay--” _hiccup,_ “-- I _don't_ care,"  
  
  
"I'm not," Liam started to laugh again, his impulsive bubbling in his gut taking over his words.

 

“I like girls too.”

 

“Oh really?” Zayn smiled, tilting his head as he was nodding with squinted eyes.

 

“Yes.”

 

“When was the last time you were with a girl?”

 

“I don’t know.” Liam starting shaking his head.

 

“High school.”

 

That was actually true.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Molly Bueller.” Liam nods. “Gave me a handjob in the middle of a pep rally at school.”

 

“And did you like it?”

 

The silence was his answer.  
  
  
“Yeah, that’s what I _thought_.”

 

Zayn didn't have a smile anymore.  
  
  
"Listen to me, Liam. You can do _whoever_ you want. I just don't want you thinking you’re in love with me, that’s all. Because you’re _not_ ."  
  
  
A look passed over Zayn's face, like a dark cloud entered the room as everything settled into the kind of silence that was usually reserved for places like funerals. It reminds Liam of how he always chose people who were dead inside. He’d rather have this real version of Zayn telling him the truth than the high and in love version that isn’t real. Maybe Liam has an addiction of his own to people who make him go out so far with his feelings that he wouldn’t even notice that he was standing out there alone.

 

He seems to think he was telling Liam this for his own good.  
  
  
_Don't fall with me. You'll regret it._  
  
  
"Why?"

 

Now that the dam had been broken, there was no going back to dancing around each letter anymore.

 

_Y._

 

Simple as that. As if he can ever expect a straight answer.

 

Zayn looks at the question through the window, all intent and miles away like he's just checked out, left his body and this room and was now off taking a stroll in downtown Manhattan somewhere.

  
  
"I don't have time for that kind of exhausting bullshit. Once is enough." He says from all his distance.  
  
  
The East river might as well have been separating them now.  
  
  
Liam went quiet again as he looked out there too. All his nervousness had faded without him even noticing, like he'd just left his body too. Left his emotional responses and fucked up expectations.

 

This was just another byproduct of Liam's inexplicable draw to the emotionally stunted like him. They say opposites attract but, he couldn’t tell. The anger and shock was all dried up. Bitter and stale - the kind of taste that people spit it out with a grimace.  
  
  
He suddenly wanted to spit Zayn out so he could get the bitter taste of him out if his mouth.  
  
  
"Why do you always do this?" He finally asked as he looked at Zayn again.  
  
  
"Every time we get closer and I start to think we’re actually friends, out of _nowhere_ , you suddenly throw up all these walls and do all but push me out."  
  
  
Zayn grimaces.

 

“You start _acting_ like I’m someone else you think you know and I’m sorry about whoever hurt you but I’m not that guy.”

 

Liam laughs even though it feels like a slap, holding his forehead and pushing his hair back.  
  
  
"You want me to be fickle like you and pretend like I like you at random then like I don’t after I get whatever I want?"

 

Zayn laughs with narrow eyes, nodding his head.

 

“Well, don’t stop there. Go ahead and tell me how you _really_ feel about me, I REALLY want to hear it--”

 

“Why don’t _you! ALL_ you do is _confuse_ me and make me think this is something else that it’s not! _”_  
  
  
"You wanna know how I really fuckin’ _feel_ about you _?!?”_ Zayn stands up abruptly and takes out his bottle of valium from his pocket that Liam thought he’d put back, tossing back onto his bed next to Liam.

 

“Since we're filing complaints, I don't need someone to monitor everything I’m doing and acting like we're fucking married.”

 

Liam lets out a tired and slightly guilty sigh as his eyes rolled closed, balling his fist up on his knees, finally getting the emotional reaction he provoked out of Zayn as he’s fully returned to their room with all the anger in the world.

 

“All I do is try to be fucking nice to you but I'm the kind of person that doesn't like people who go lurking in my shit and then go calling yourself getting angry at ME like _I’m_ the one being an asshole out of fucking nowhere, I'm kind of funny like that."  
  
  
"ALL I asked was if you remembered!" Liam yells back at him as he stands up in front of him,

 

“I didn’t ask for your hand in marriage--”  
  
  
“JESUS Liam, no! I don't fucking remember! WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?! I’m not going to act like something I’m not”  
  
  
"I don’t want you to ACT! I want you to BE a _NORMAL fucking_ _PERSON!”_ Liam _roared._

 

“Someone who cares to remember important events. Or go to a _fucking_ **AA!** I want you to stop acting like that fucked up old man ruining anything good that happens to you! **”**  

 

That caged animal look appear on Zayn’s face again and he hates it. He hates everything about it. Why it’s there. Why he looked up to and aspired to be that crazy person. Why two emotionally damaged little boys got picked to be this _stupid_ together.

 

For the first time, Liam realises there is something about Zayn that he really does hate. His anger about it all explodes, unable to stop yelling after realising just how much he hates what Zayn is and why people leave him.

 

He’s not just a suffering alcoholic. He’s _choosing_ to be this person exactly for that reason. So he can push whoever is near him away when they get too close.

 

“You don’t look up to him because he was an upstanding citizen. You look up to him because he’s dead and that’s what you act like you want to be with your a million bottles of fucking poison!”

 

He’s surprising himself with how loud and steady his voice is, the opposite of himself in every way to the point that even Zayn looks mildly shocked as he stares at Liam in wide-eyed silence, alarmed as his hands stay caged around his flask defensively like he’s afraid Liam’s going to rip it out of his hands and throw it out of the window.

 

He sure as hell wants to. Maybe he would’ve if the windows in here opened wide enough.

 

“I want you to remember last week instead of having another cocktail!” He continues to yell at him, hammering into Zayn’s nerves.

 

“Or remember who I am and how to act like you're a part of the same world as me! You live in this crazy universe where you drink and get high all day and all night and act like nothing is happening in here and I'm just supposed to be okay with it and go along with whatever you want even when you almost _die_. Maybe we’re not friends. Maybe we’ll NEVER be friends. But I don't want to just look the other way when I see you destroying your life like everyone else. They just watch you drown and it’s horrible and WRONG!”

 

Liam wipes his leaking eyes as he sniffs, his throat already tight like he’s about to lose his voice.

 

“I only went into your stuff because I just... I just want to know you better. And _help_ you. You’re so sad all the time I just--”

 

“I’ve had an alcohol dependency since I was 6.”

 

Liam stopped with a small gasp.

 

Zayn with his stoic, completely serious face that says the most fucked up things so casually. It was one of the moments when news anchors announce the 15th tragedy of the day and move on like it means nothing. Like it doesn’t matter to anyone’s life.

 

“What do you mean--”

 

“I’ve had an ALCOHOL dependency since I was 6 YEARS OLD.”

 

Liam’s voice was nothing compared to Zayn’s and he didn’t even have to raise it. He broke off into smile, shaking his head and he turned away, walking towards the window.

 

“You wanna ‘know me’?” He offered Liam who is stuck standing in the middle of their room, still shocked by the news.

 

  
“Did it ever occur to you and your thick skull that maybe, just MAYBE, that I don't have any real friends anymore and family because I don't want friends or my family? That maybe I drink because I don't want my fucking memories, Liam?”

 

He pulls out the drawer completely and dumps _everything_ on the floor so abruptly, Liam almost stumbles back off his guard.  
  
  
“My mother is a drunk and frigid bitch.” He starts as he rummages through everything on the floor.

 

“There was pretty much no hope for me. All I ever did was scream and cry so she rubbed whiskey on my gums to shut me up to the point where I couldn't even _swallow_. I've had an alcohol dependency ever since, Liam. I couldn’t even talk right until I was almost 7 years old. I can't just stop drinking whenever I FEEL like it!” He finds a slip of paper between the pages of one of his magazines and tosses it on the bed.

 

It’s a schedule. Every 6 hours is marked, and every other mark highlighted in yellow.

 

_6am - 2 fl. Oz. 5 mg._

 

_Noon - 1 fl oz._

 

_6pm 4 fl oz 1 mg_

 

_Evening - game_

 

It took Liam a minute too long to realise it was a drinking schedule but it takes no time at all to see that he definitely abuses his daily limit even if he doesn’t understand the measurements.

 

“Two drunken lunatics and a little girl raised me.” He continued after he snatches it back and tosses it back in place, not even bothering to pick anything up.

 

“Crypt died friendless and alone because of his dependency. All he ever told me was don't be friendless and don't die alone and guess what? No one ever taught me anything different, _that's_ where I came from!”

 

With his bottle of valium in his hand now, he’s turning it over in his hand as he shakes his head.  
  
  
“The reason why I take this and the reason why I can't be fucking sober is because if I don't have a drink for a few hours, I start having withdrawal and hallucinations like I'm still DRUNK. These “bottles of poison” stop me from losing my FUCKING mind. I got a prescription for it after I dropped out of high school so DON’T WORRY, I’m not a _drug addict!”_

 

At Liam’s confused look of that, he now has to launch into full on exposition mode because he had no idea he drank bad enough in high school to have to drop out.

 

Jesy did say he didn’t walk with their class but now that he thought about it… he’d never really known _why._  
  
  
Liam learns that Zayn wasn't a 19 year old freshman last year because he took a gap year but because his last year of high school consisted of him drinking holes into his liver beyond repair and abusing drugs up until he ultimately had to drop out and get a G.E.D the next year because he’d missed too many months of school from being in the hospital so often.

 

Liam hadn’t noticed the medical folder about his liver because it’s tucked away deeper into his stuff just in case someone like Liam ever decided to stick their nose where they shouldn’t.

 

He takes it that no one else knows why Zayn was really out of school in the final months of their senior year and he doesn’t blame him for not telling anyone that he was practically dying. He’s too shocked to really react yet.

 

_How could no one know this??_

 

“Because I have been unable to form long term, committed relationships because of this.” He answers Liam’s mure question.

 

“BECAUSE OF THIS, I almost killed Leigh-Anne in a drunken fit of rage because I blamed her for something stupid that I DID and there's been a warrant for my arrest for the last 2 years since. This MAKES me a crazy person. _These_ stop me from being that person. This is the most sober I have been in 6 years, Liam. So there. Now, you fucking know me.”

 

Zayn’s disgusted scoff cuts himself off as he pushes Liam out of his way, his face completely screwed up.

 

“I _can’t_ do this with you right now--” He hiccups, although he can’t tell if it’s on tears or alcohol.

 

“Zayn, wait!”

 

Liam grabs his arm so this can calm down but Zayn pulls away and whips back around to shove him off with all the momentum as he can muster in his arms, pushing Liam’s chest back off him so he falls against the wall.

 

 _Hard._ So hard, something cracks.

 

His breath gets knocked out of his with an _oof_ , momentarily stunned when a sharp pain shoots down his back. With the resounding thud and Liam’s double over, the red glare in Zayn’s eyes falters as he tears up, a crack of horror at his own hand.

 

Liam can tell he instantly regrets it, like it was a knee jerk reaction he couldn’t stop.

 

His hands jerk up, fixing to reach out and hold him and start apologising like he always does to Liam but, he stops himself.

 

They stare at each other in silence as he’s pulling his hands back until Zayn looks away and wipes his eyes before his tears touch his cheeks. Liam doesn’t even let out the weak cough threatening to break out of him, not wanting to let out the pain coiling up in his body about what’s just happened.

 

This was bigger than a crack in the wall. Larger than the East River and it’s distance from here to Manhattan.

 

Something just shattered. And like all the kings horses and men, they couldn’t put it back together.

 

He backs away from Liam with his eyes to the ground, unable to look him in the face through all that shame clouding his eyes as he grabs a random jacket and throws on his shoes. Liam just stood there, awkwardly watching him put his clothes on, reminiscent to that awful feeling he got a century ago when they were standing in that closet they were both still in together.

 

That this was all a huge mistake that he was regretting every minute of ever taking part in.

 

Before, Zayn surprised him when he begged him to stay. Now there were no surprises. He was running from Liam like he’d just set fire to their room, leaving him behind to burn in it alone instead of taking him along like he would’ve any other time.

 

It went perfect with the scorch in Liam’s throat as he slid to the ground, festering in hot tears after the door slams close so hard, a few bowls of burning potpourri fell off the desk to the floor.

 

He didn’t start crying until the sound of Zayn fading further down the hall ended with the _ding_ from the exit.

 

Everything in here was suddenly too heated, suffocating him like the burning around him turning into flames from hell.

 

He didn’t say goodbye when he left and no one stopped anyone from leaving this time. Maybe because unlike every other time, this goodbye didn’t feel like it was attached to ‘see you later’ or ‘until next time’.

 

It felt like just that.

 

Goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> . **LONG BUT VERY INFORMATIVE NOTE OF ME OVERSHARING DETAILS**.
> 
> {To the people that message me about my other work-in- sort-of-progress, I'll go back to that again after this is over}
> 
> Links I wanted to share with you guys for some of the scenes that I referenced if you have time to watch them:
> 
> Bedroom Scene → [Nikki and Kat](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U8bivadnzfU)
> 
> That's the only scene quoted directly from the short film so far. Just so you see why I made Zayn so cold and Liam so needy. I basically just gave their characters a very elaborate backstory for why they act like that.
> 
> And then last, at the beginning when Liam is dancing in his underwear to French music, I'm referencing this weird video I came across that reminded me of his character lol → [Start it at 2:05](https://youtu.be/IRlClzTD7_g?t=2m5s)
> 
> Alright now back to the fic. Next chap is a shortie. Oh and there's an epilogue too so there's technically an extra chapter.


	6. The heart eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Liam and Zayn try to figure out where they're going next, Liam finds that the answer might not be as simple to Zayn as he's fantasised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUYS THE FULL SCENE THIS WHOLE FIC IS BASED OFF OF GOT MADE PUBLIC AGAIN AND I'M SO HAPPY YOU GUYS CAN GET THE FULL REFERENCE! If you have time, please watch it. It's just under 15 minutes long.
> 
> Watch it here >> ["Nikki and Kat"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Im8Ajuk4gE8)
> 
> Everything in the story that has happened so far up to this part stops exactly at the 3:25 mark if you don't want the end to be completely spoiled.
> 
> Sorry I was too lazy to make a mood board for this part (if anyone cares lol) I might add one later

  
**vi. The heart eyes**

 

 

It must’ve been about 5 or 10 minutes after leaving did Zayn realise he’d made a terrible mistake.

 

He didn’t know the that sun was only supposed to be shining for half the day before he got outside. Now the sky decides to hold an overcast sky like it might rain coincidently after he gets into a fight with his roommate. Figures.

 

It’s about to rain and he’s stuck outside. If he gets sick, he’s gonna kill Liam…. if he ever sees him again.

 

The only umbrella he ever bought in his life, he had given to Liam since he always forgot his when he leaves home. He’d would’ve stay inside but he can’t go back there after blowing up in his room.

 

He’s almost surprised he made it out of there alive because it feels like he just narrowly escaped a fire. He wouldn’t be surprised if he looked back and saw smoke in his trail.

 

He _would_ be surprised if he looked back and saw his roommate coming to stop him. All he gets is disappointment when he sees there’s no one there and irritation that he feels disappointed at all.

 

He couldn't put his finger on it but, he still didn’t know what it was about Liam that made him get so deep into his feelings. Deeper than he thought was ever room for in his body to hold such teary-eyed emotion.

 

He makes way down the block with his hands shoved into his pockets and his head down, staying in shadows to avoid being exposed in the light. If only he’d had this energy a year ago.

 

He doesn’t understand what’s going on in his body right now. Why his heart won’t stop racing. Why his eyes won’t stop watering like he’s melted on the inside. Why he feels so afraid of what’s behind him like a little kid afraid of the dark again.

 

He blames the mood swings on the weather. Maybe Mercury was in retrograde or some really late reaction to puberty he’d skipped had just caught up with him.

 

It wasn’t that he was unfamiliar with being emotional. He’d just never experienced it like _this_. For someone whose heart had been replaced by a grenade a long time ago, getting too close to such heated situations used to put him in a danger zone. He was the kind of sensitive that had a high risk of turning wherever he was standing into a detonation site.

 

Sometimes Liam gets him so hot he thinks he’ll combust and all it takes is 30 seconds with him. But for all of a year, Zayn hasn’t been a ticking time bomb anymore. He thinks it’s being under Liam’s careful watch with that magnifying glass on his face that’s been subduing him and making him forget that he’s supposed to be angry.

 

Who else could make him meltdown like this under all that pressure? Liam would make a great attorney with that kind of line of questioning. Although, Zayn’s brash outbursts still precede him.

 

He takes Zayn as this fearless pistol but Liam has seriously got him all wrong. You wouldn’t call a grenade something fearless. It’s just a fucking grenade. But Liam doesn’t make him feel like his heart is made of explosives anymore. He made him feel like it’s made of plastic - the kind of sensitive that melts when it gets too heated. Not in the angry way. The gushy gushy, cornball way. Implode with emotion he shouldn’t have. Act romantic and say cringy stuff you’d probably read in those plastic Valentine's Day cards that always end up in the trash. At least, that’s what always happens with Zayn’s.

 

There hasn’t been much given to Zayn in his brief, miserable life to begin with. So for Liam to go and appear in it out of thin air like he did, getting under Zayn’s skin like he does, after everything Zayn’s learned and tried to understand from all his mistakes… and he _still_ finds himself in new ruins.

 

He feels foolish for ever thinking that he could make someone happy and even more for thinking he wouldn’t fuck it up this time.

 

Come this far just to fall again. He couldn’t bare to face that right now. So into the heart of the city this old, broken grenade will throw himself where he can disappear into the faces of a million strangers he’ll most likely never in his life see again. This was all so familiar yet still brand new all in the same breath.

 

See, everything that he’s zipped by over a billions times is what’s become so unfamiliar. Things he’s done without much thought countless times until now all of the sudden, he doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing anymore. The true massiveness of it all makes him feel small, only existing outside of some distant planet he’s not really from. Like no one around him would understand the alien language he spoke if he stopped and asked for guidance and direction even though he’s supposed to know where he is and which way his legs are taking him. All he feels is the heartburn each step further away from home he takes into the unknown. So he lights a freshly rolled cigarette to it’ll all become another blur.

 

That’s the thing about pain. Maybe it follows him everywhere he goes without making any pit stops and maybe he couldn’t stop himself from feeling it but he could learn to control it so he didn’t have to feel it all at once.

 

He lights up the tip of his cigarette and all it takes is a few inhales to get high enough to be emotionally expelled from here. Expelled from the strings in his heart playing their sad score like a fanless artist walking around the city. Expelled from listening to the silent sound of the constant Earthquake echoing behind him in the trail of ruin and smoke in this song he leaves behind everywhere he goes. A song he fucking hates but can’t stop his heart from singing as long as the beat continues to play it.

 

If you listened to Zayn hard enough, you’d hear just how quiet the sound of a shattered heart was.

 

[ [Sampha - Plastic 100°C] ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7O24317vB1A)

 

It’s one of those afternoons when the sun’s very peak is hiding behind clouds so it remains a big bright blur in the sky. He wants to be that blur. The one his painkillers turn him into without any edges or definition, just the way he likes to be.

 

Zayn’s clarity rested at the base of his flask and burning tip of his blunt. It was the ultimate palliative the universe gifted to him - freedom from sobriety.

 

He’d found solace in these substances at times like this when things felt like they were spiralling. Even if dependency was a way of life he resented to have, it was a perfect release from any conceivable emotion he’s ever wanted to toss out like throwing a boomerang out into space. Every fear, worry, and _almost_ any sadness. He can’t think of a single relationship with anything else that did it better. Even if boomerangs come back, that brief moment of feeling nothing inside was Zayn’s pause for breath.

 

A mouth full of smoke then a head full of hard liquor always made things clear for him. Or at least killed his emotion hard enough for him to either lose consciousness or made it too hazy for him to have the capacity to know anything’s bothering him. Whichever one hit first, it was the same difference.

 

The trick wasn’t to solve the problem. Just dull the intensity of it until later and hope to God none of it comes back by the time you’ve put yourself back together.

 

Zayn’s never made it far enough to find every missing piece of himself that he’s lost. Sometimes things are too broken to be made whole again. He’ll just seek out someone else to temporarily fill the void, looking for something he won’t find but enough to forget what’s missing for a while until the cycle repeats itself again and again with the same hangover that will linger the next day, as it will for the rest of his life.

 

Today, the inside of his body is cut up deeper than usual. None of his usual tactics are quite numbing enough for what’s sinking itself deep in the bottom of his heart like it’s been sliced open to free the heavy chains now hanging loose inside, tethered to the anxiety he can’t let go of.

 

He realises his heart is only speeding up more, like he’s having some kind of anxiety attack as he stumbles along a brick wall down an alley he doesn’t recognise.

 

He knows what’s amping up his anxiety now. Not the fact that he’s lost in a dark alley. The reality is dawning on him that if he goes back to his bedroom, he’ll be alone again. Because Liam won’t be there anymore and his body has been conditioned to panic at this thought.

 

He starts running through what else could distract himself from this.

 

There was his ‘date’ with Leigh's shit-head brother but he wasn’t in a condition to make any moves to get to the park. He could text his usual buddies for a smoke session but, he doesn’t have a skateboard and his shaky fingers can’t dial a phone number right now either. Even heading to the joint Harry wasn’t an appropriate place to be the level of shit-faced Zayn was trying to be right now.

 

Even still, any excuse to avoid thinking about the inevitable fact that Liam was definitely moving out, probably fleeing to whoever is in charge of their rooming arrangements right now after finding out how fucked up Zayn is.

 

This is why he never leaves his shadow. The more Liam sees of him, the more he scares him. The more reasons Liam sees to put distance between them. As if he didn’t already have enough reasons to be afraid.

 

Maybe this was for the best. All Zayn’s done is encouraged Liam to pick up his own bad habits. He was an awful roommate for anyone to have regardless of today.

 

After passing the same heart shaped cherry-blossom tree 4 times he notices he’s just walking around his neighbourhood in circles, not too far away from home. Liam pointed it out as a landmark for him to look for whenever he was lost and trying to get home if he was ever alone since Zayn loses all sense of direction when he was too drunk.

 

 _“Just look for your heart,”_ Liam called it. The heart he shared with him.

 

Looking at it now just makes his chest burn.

 

This city was just a landfill of emotional landmines. Everywhere he looks, he stills sees Liam. Even in the weather. Zayn never failed to worry about Liam whenever he sees an overcast sky.

 

He briefly wonders if he remembered his umbrella today.

 

He stops finally, standing there for a moment right across the street. Too afraid to look back at where his heart is supposed to be. Afraid that if he looks, the whole thing will have vanished.

 

He drunkenly stumbles back to sit at a bench with a lump in his throat he can feel with each swallow. It’s the same bench he found a cute, smelly guy at last year although it felt like another lifetime. Even still, it doesn’t take a lifetime to fall. It only took a few seconds. This thought smears across his brain with a burning ache, disappearing into a migraine as these thoughts all do when his heart starts pounding hard enough for his head to throb too.

 

He sits there drinking and smoking as he’s staring into space while his mind empties with each breath, taking him up higher, up and away from the real world and all the mixed emotions firing off behind him in the distance of his war with sobriety.  
  
  
Being sensible isn’t what he needs. Disappearing into a foggy state of mind with each drink is what he needs. Not constantly thinking about the boy he routinely falls asleeps on top of almost every night.  
  
  
When his head finally stopped pounding and his aching body dulls into a numb, couch lock where he can’t even feel his heart racing anymore, he knows he’s finally reached the perfect blend of body high and drunk where he didn’t feel anything - which was the trick of the trade to clog the drain of toxins rushing into his mind and body.

 

For once in his life, he wasn’t getting anything out of the feeling of being barely alive inside.

 

He didn’t know if it was the vodka in his empty stomach, the emotional discord or just the suddenly rank taste of this weed making his stomach twist but, he springs up from the bench then keels over to the ground as his insides release all the poison through his burning throat.

 

After he’s done vomiting garbage he’s falling back on the bench and staring up into the sky through the canopy of trees casting shadows above his head, swallowing the acidic bile in his throat he chases out with a stick of gun he ends up swallowing.

 

It leaves his mouth minty fresh but it’ll be in his digestive tract for 7 years.

 

Out of everything he’s tried, this is the one thought that distracts him enough to forget today. 

 

He didn’t notice when he’d passed out. The next coherent memory next was a phone call that ignites another fight in his body all over again for an entirely different reasoning.  
  
  
All it took was 5 words after he pulls his phone up to his ear with a shaking hand and meekly croaks out a hello.  
  
  
_‘ZAYN, OUR ROOM'S ON FIRE!’_

 

He pulled the phone away from his ear and looks at it like it had just spat Chinese at him.

 

It takes entirely too long for him to realise this was his neighbour that lived across the hall. His name was Drew.  
  
  
The guy _never_ calls Zayn. He was one of those emo white dudes who wore dark eye make-up like he belongs in a Tim Burton cartoon, plays dubstep at volumes that would kill any actual human being standing in his room and probably sacrificed animals in graveyards at night. There's really nothing to talk about even though Liam insists on inviting him to the monthly dinner party he threw for everyone on their floor.

 

 _“To be friendly neighbours,”_ Liam said. Zayn would’ve been annoyed if it were anyone else. But that was just Liam being Liam.

 

It’s the only way Drew could’ve had this number. He supposes being close to their neighbours really did have a useful perk.  
  
  
While Drew continues talking too fast for Zayn to even understand what he’s saying, Zayn distractingly looks back towards a riot-like crowd of commotion happening across the street.  
  
  
He comes out of his grogginess for long enough to realise it’s not a riot but dozens of people flooding out of the building along with police and he'd almost be pissed that no one called him about the party if it weren't for the ambulance and the entire fire brigade’s attendance too.  
  
  
Then he looks up higher and for the first time since summer, freezes cold. Even his heart turns to ice.  
  
  
The third floor is bellowing out clouds of thick smoke, right from his bedroom window.

 

A piece of himself he didn't know was even still alive kicks wide awake and into overdrive, pushing him up to his feet and sending him sprinting across the park as he leaps over the bench and the fountain like a mad-man without stopping to pick up his cellphone he drops into the water, echoing out nonsense as it short-circuits down the drain.    
  
  
He did hear _one_ word wrong _._ _  
_ _  
_ _  
_ _'ZAYN,_ **_YOUR_ ** _ROOM'S ON FIRE'_

 

That’s all he’s got. No context or further information about whether or not anyone was _in_ his room still as it was blazing like smoke session with stoners gone wrong. _  
_ _  
_ _  
_ He runs so fast that the lack of oxygen to his heart and his brain has to be 100% replaced by adrenaline. The only thing he can think is one prayer, screaming to every God there is the entire sprint there. He even made a deal with the devil.

 

That fire could take his room to hell if it wanted to but it couldn’t take his heart with it.  
  
  
He didn't know if Liam was going to answer the phone ever again and he didn’t know what would was about to kill him more, the fire or the last moment of their lives together being Zayn pushing Liam into it.

There was no more thought as he ran into a burning building without a care in the world if he died too.

 

*

 

Liam didn’t see Zayn before he heard him. He seemed to be the last person to see anything at all but of course, everyone heard Zayn.

 

Even in a crowd of a hundred over the blaze of sirens and chaos, Zayn was always the loudest in the room.

 

Before that, feeling like an asshole, Liam had picked himself off his floor and put on his $500 frog oval goggles from his prized collection of designer sunglasses he always used to conceal his puffy, post-teary eyes or post orgasm glow before carefully picking out his outfit, taking extra time to swirl the longer part of his sandy hair up back with a comb, boyfriend jeans and a turtleneck sweater before hastily leaving to run his errands like he said he would.

 

He’s too far away from the building when he notices that the sky looks like it’s about to start raining and that he left his umbrella. Not that he’d even want it right now since _Zayn_ bought it for him last summer and the memories it held weren’t ones he wanted to have right now.

 

He always told Liam he’d die without that umbrella. Right before he told Liam he still thought about him whenever it rains.

 

It was after one particularly special night a few months ago, the end of their first completed year of college which clearly called for celebration. But in their case anything was a cause for celebration as long as there was an excuse to drink.

 

They’d decided to go downtown that day with some plans Zayn had in mind that he wouldn’t reveal to Liam that required them to take the jitney instead of walking but it started to rain really hard as soon as they’d made it to the heart of the city so bailing to make it all the way back home together consisted of running through the streets of Manhattan, soaking wet and laughing hard at what a fail their first summer together was looking to be like as they were scrambling to find shelter. If only they’d known.

 

He was cracking jokes that always had Liam in tears at and smiling afterwards like it was some proud accomplishment that he’d made Liam laugh despite how miserable the evening turned out. They ended up stowing away on a random brownstone to dry, huddled together on the steps to stay warm as they waited for the rain to stop although they’d been so into each other the entire time that neither of them noticed it stopped raining. He did always remember the sweet taste of petrichor that roused off the ground on Zayn’s lips that were never able to get dry.

 

Liam got deathly ill the following night as a result so, Zayn missed the first week of his summer classes just to keep Liam alive, force-feeding him cheap soup and ambien all week. Being sick in the summer sucked but being taken care of throughout was worth it.

 

The next week, Zayn bought him a cool umbrella from a German gift shop and Liam can’t remember a day it rained that he’s ever left the house without an umbrella until today.

 

Even if it was trivial, being thought of made Liam feel warm inside.

 

Sometimes Zayn seemed sweet. Other’s, like a cranky old man. He’s either in the mood to be in love or destroy the entire fucking world.

 

He was probably getting drunk right now and getting ready to fuck some supermodel he met in a sewer with Liam being the very furthest thing from the cobwebs in Zayn’s head.

 

Liam wipes his eyes with a sniff as he ends up calling Jade on the way downtown to a pawn shop with a bag of purchases, ranting to her about Zayn being a massive douchebag like he always does.

 

He tries not to mention the fight because he really brought it all on himself and he didn’t feel like trying to explain how he wasn’t an idiot for pulling the trigger of a pistol with curiosity. He ends up telling her everything anyways.

 

There was once a time when she’d talk his ear off all day long and almost had to hold a gun to Liam’s head to force him to talk more about himself but nowadays, she’d be lucky if he ever shut up.

 

Therein lies his problems of today.

 

“I _knew_ asking questions would scare him! It’s like it threw him overboard or something then suddenly, we’re both going to nuclear war. I was just high and everything was running through my head at once and none of it made sense anymore. If I knew he was going to run away, I would’ve just kept my fucking mouth shut.” He rolls his eyes at himself.

 

_“Is it still standing?”_

 

He didn’t know if she meant their relationship or his bedroom. He still wasn’t sure if the blow up was really _that_ intense. He wouldn’t love knowing that anytime soon.

 

 _“Liam, silence is not the solution just because you’re scared of where he stands. If you can’t have conversation about the status of your relationship without trying to kill each other then there’s a serious problem. That’s what unstable boys like him_ **_do_ ** _.”_ Jade tells him, for the 100th time this year.

 

_“Sometimes when things melt into place naturally like how they did with you, they make you start to confuse love with lust. I’m not saying he doesn’t love you - just because he doesn’t say the words doesn’t mean it’s not there. But if he’s having panic attacks over just the notion of having a conversation about the reality of the situation then he doesn’t need the what are we talk. He needs fucking therapy.”_

 

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” Liam cuts her off in a panicked attempt to avoid having a conversation about the reality of the situation.

 

He hates it when the girls start talking to him like they’re on the Ricki Lake show. This has nothing to do with sex or love or the emotional karate kick to the throat he just took.

 

He simply had a fight with his roommate over the issue of propriety and would love if it never happened again.

 

“I just need somewhere else to stay.”

 

He insists that he needed to stay at hers for a few nights which wasn’t unusual for Liam to do but this wasn’t just something that was going to passover with ease like the other times. He’s never pushed Zayn that far and Zayn has certainly never pushed Liam. This was the wake up call they both needed. They needed space from each other for a while. Maybe for good.

 

He’s never had a real valid reason for avoiding Zayn even though he does it all the time. But this time he wasn’t stowing away. He knew Zayn wasn’t going back there for awhile and he couldn’t bare to be in there alone again.

 

In moments like these, rooming with a bunch of girls had its perks. No chance of facing boys who slept against his chest every night. Maybe it was time to find a new roommate who wasn’t a holding a fucking thunderstorm in his chest but even _thinking_ that makes Liam shiver with icy chills.

 

Zayn gave him rules and Liam broke them. So why did it seem so unfair to be broken up with in response?

 

Maybe this was the biggest jump to conclusions in history but if Zayn wants to leave, Liam will beat him to it. Even if his heart feels like it might break.

 

The already crappy day was turning out even crappier than usual when he rounds the corner and sees an epic crowd of panicked chaos happening everywhere outside of his building as he went home to pack an overnight bag.

 

 _“What the heck is going on over there?”_ Jade asks over the phone, hearing the noise of sirens and shouting as Liam carefully circles around a distance away from the crowd to see what’s happened.

 

 _“I think there’s a fire or something.”_ Liam mumbled as he seen the smoke from at least a mile away, puffing on his cigarette as he was squinting up to see where it was coming from until he froze, slowly pulling his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose with his mouth hanging open as he lowers his cellphone.

 

_“Holy shit,”_

 

Now he can join the emotions of the crowd.

 

The moment he realised whose building was on fire was the moment he heard his name through the crowd of people, a voice he’d recognise before his own mother’s call.

 

 _“Liam!_ **_LIAM!”_ **

 

Zayn emerged from the smoke right behind his voice, hacking into his arm like he’d just been huffing gas and the look in his eyes were so unrecognisable, he didn’t even see this person as Zayn at first glance.

 

It was _fear_. This had to be first time he’d ever seen what it looked like on Zayn’s face and it was the first time he wore something that looked terrible on him.

 

Instantly he knew that wherever Zayn was before this very moment, he thought Liam was dead. The moment he saw who he was looking at really _was_ Liam alive outside, it was like his soul had finally returned to his body. And it was sprinting towards Liam like he was making a run for home base.

 

Liam still didn’t fully know what the hell happened in the space of an hour to make a blow up like _this_ happen out of nowhere up there but when Zayn ran towards him, he didn’t hesitate to do the same as everyone else all ran for their lives in the opposite direction.

 

For the first time ever, they didn’t collide into each other in the wrong place or meet on the wrong footing upon their first encounter. Liam and Zayn finally met each other halfway, returning the same feelings with the same energy like an old soul returned to its other lost half.

 

It seemed as though everyone had abandoned the routine they’d all learned during a fire drill in school for how to remain calm in the middle of a disaster. They could not have been more dramatic than if they were on a staged play. But the building seriously looked like it was about to collapse so, getting the hell out of dodge should’ve been Liam’s first priority as well but not before taking Zayn with him.

 

Within seconds they embraced as Zayn practically jumped into his arms, a running hug that knocks the wind out of Liam. They’d never held each other more tight as all the walls they’d both so foolishly built around themselves fell away so they’re hearts could collide again, beating out the their chests against each other.

 

Usually they only got like this in public when when someone needed consoling. This time, it was a need to feel that both their hearts were still beating, alive and desperate to continue the unrestrained dance to the song that poured out of them and swathed around the air like a safety blanket.

 

The smell of smoke that was all over Zayn rushed into Liam’s nose so suddenly, he almost wanted to gag for a moment until he realised Zayn was kissing him.

 

Or maybe it was the other way around.

 

Just as suddenly as they’d come together, Zayn pushed him off as anger mixed into every bit of fear that was there before.

 

“You _stupid_ bastard,” His voice broke off into a raspy choke. “I thought you were _gone--”_

 

 _“Stop,”_ Liam shook his head and held him in his arms and squeezed tight again.

 

 _“Why are you fighting me?”_ He asks into the side of Zayn’s hair.

 

He said it over and over, stuck on repeat like one of Zayn’s old broken records.

 

 _“What are you fighting for?”_ He said this time, quieter this time.

 

“Cause you taste like a cigarette.” Zayn managed to say back into his shoulder. “You’re not kissin’ me until you wash out your mouth.”

 

Even with the apocalypse surrounding them, he still made Liam laugh.

 

Zayn started coughing again and Liam couldn’t tell if he was crying, hacking out whatever he inhaled or a mixture of both after going back in there for Liam. It made him think maybe Zayn really did value him over his own life and that scared him more than the fire itself.

 

Finally, it started to rain and Liam thought that maybe this would be able to put the fire out before it spread too far.

 

He got them out of the thick of the crowd as he pulls Zayn’s waist along, tucked away so he’d stay dry under Liam’s arm as they got far away from the chaos to across the street since they were taping off the entire area and rushing people away from the scene. No one appeared to be hurt (thank _God)_ but it was apparent that a lot of them were about to be homeless.

 

Looks like it wasn’t time to get a new roommate. Just a new room. In a weird way, Liam was kind of glad.

 

Sure he had some pretty great memories but, it wasn’t the four walls and single twin bed that was keeping him warm up there.

 

*

 

They sat on their bench under the trees to dry off as they continued to hold each other. It didn’t feel like he would ever let go of Liam again.

 

Zayn sat up after a while to wipe his red nose as a flushed out glow was spread across his face and that thing that always happens when Zayn cries starts to make his lashes stick afterwards. The corner of his eyes are narrower than the average person, sort of like a baby, and shaped like the tip of a wing so his tears get held in his lashes more than they fall down his face.

 

Zayn’s eyes stored tears the way a lotus leaf collects dewdrops. That had to have been the only thing in the universe to look that pretty even when it was crying tears.

 

“Your… eyelashes are full of water.” Liam said hesitantly as Zayn wiped them repeatedly.

 

“It’s okay,” Liam laughs. “It’s cute.”

 

Usually, he would’ve told Liam not to call him cute. From the way Zayn kisses him instead, it occurs to him that Zayn is a little drunk.

 

“Sorry,” Zayn pulls back with a grimace as their foreheads touch, “Kinda thought I’d never see you again so,”

 

“I’m sorry too.” Liam tells him as he hugged Zayn again.

 

 _“Not as sorry as me.”_ Zayn hiccuped on a laugh as he shook his head on Liam.

 

_“Not nearly as much.”_

 

Liam shushes him, holding his back and telling him it was okay as he kissed Zayn again. He knew what he was apologising for.

 

He could rarely ever hide his emotion after he’d been drinking just like how he couldn’t hide his eyes. He covers them when he laughs or gets embarrassed and holds them in too tight when he cries but just like when he was sober, Zayn could never fully hold in the deep, oceanic depths of emotions that moved in them like currents. Even when they were closed.

 

They get some weird stares each time someone passing by seen two dudes hugging and kissing in public like that was something more bizarre to gawk at than the battling fire happening across the street. Liam was hyper aware that they knew who they were and would totally get the wrong idea now but for once this time Liam wasn’t as anxious to hide anything.

 

Zayn’s comfort was more important to him. He wanted him to stop crying, not because it was embarrassing Liam. Just a need for Zayn’s distress to leave. He needed Zayn to know he wasn’t going anywhere. He hopes whatever words that aren’t forming in his lips now do in his returned kiss.

 

“Not until we’re at least 25.” Liam tells him. “We can both die then.”

 

 _“Shut up, Liam.”_ Zayn rested his chin on Liam’s shoulder.

 

“Don’t make me laugh.”

 

He went against his wishes anyways, continuing to replace his tears with laughter that made Liam smile too, finally understanding why it felt so good to relieve stress for someone you cared about like how Zayn always does with him. If only everything were that simple to sit here making Zayn laugh all day.

 

As he turns his own chin on Zayn’s shoulder as well so his cheek fit into the crook of Zayn’s neck and feels the beating in his chest against Zayn’s, he wonders what it was that their hearts were saying to each other right now that made them both feel so secure.

 

How they fit so perfectly into each other that it was just second nature to feel their skin touch and how their sounds complimented each other so well that it may as well have been their song. How it could be that this song he knew so well inside of someone else’s body felt even more familiar to him than the beat of the drums in his own heart.

 

This thumping between them felt more intimate than kissing. Louder than thunder in their ears only but quiet to the world outside, it must’ve just been some sort of pasilaly only their bodies spoke, a secret language that whispered things that were even a secret to them. It makes him think about _the Tell-tale Heart_ told by Edgar Allan Poe _,_ a morbid lesson about how no matter how good someone might be at hiding, their hearts will always give them away and no notion rang more true than the sound of Liam and Zayn’s.

 

He once listened to this beat in Zayn carefully, treating it as though it were music and thinking he’d hear the poetry of his lost love that he sometimes tells Liam about. Maybe that same lost thing his eyes are always searching for.

 

This song echoing inside Zayn might not have been anything neither he nor Liam understood completely yet but, Liam understood that it wasn’t just the sound of his loneliness nor was it lost.

 

It was just love. Loud and intense at times but still somehow the softest and most gentle thing he’d ever encounter all at the same time just like a thunderstorm itself.

 

Even after this has endured enough strife to die, it still managed to make contact with Liam even long after Zayn thought he’d lost it by now. Not in a way that felt strictly romantically attached. Something fluid and versatile that feels like will only age like wine after how much it’s developed tremendously over such a short time. Way beyond the physical chemistry two strangers casually found with each other at random.

 

Coming together again wasn’t incidental, fire or otherwise. Just a pure love. He couldn’t be more relieved they found it in each other again. Whether it was raining, summertime, or dead cold in the middle of September, it was always there beating away in their chests.

 

 _“We’re okay.”_ Liam sighs in content. Zayn, like always, agreed without question.

 

He can feel Zayn settling into him again with a calm exhale that said they both agreed that hugging it out and letting their hearts speak instead really was the way they should go about things from now on.

 

Zayn finally sits up, rubbing his eyes with a poignant snort when he sees Liam’s bag on the ground from the pawn shop.

 

“You got me a… new board?” He laughs like he’s astonished.

 

“I got you a new board.” Liam nods with a sigh, then he shrugs. “You left without it and you and I both know you will stumble into the street and get hit by a taxi without your board so...”

 

 _“Shit,” Z_ ayn shakes his head into his pressed his fingers covering his eyes.

 

“You don’t know how many close calls I had since coming out here.”

 

Liam wiped the drips from under Zayn’s chin until he looked up at Liam with one eye squinted closed.

 

“How much humiliation can I take until I’ve had enough of doing this in front of you.”

 

“No, don’t do that.” Liam shakes his head as Zayn looks down.

 

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of crying. You’re not a robot. You’re allowed to have a license for tears too.”

 

He felt bad after saying this, as if he knows shit about propriety. He knows Zayn hates crying and it was his fault that he was.

 

Not only had he basically burned down their floor (which hasn’t been confirmed to have started in their room yet or how but there’s already a rumour floating around that it came from the “smokers” room full of unattended burning potpourri) but none of this would have happened to begin with if Liam had’ve left Zayn’s property alone in the first place. Not just what was in his drawer.

 

There’s just some triggers that shouldn’t be tested or touched even with the safety on.

 

He _knows_ how sensitive Zayn is under the surface. He wouldn’t be crying if it weren’t for the emotional punching bag he put Zayn into before the fight even happened. Taking his frustration about where they stand out on Zayn wasn’t fair.

 

“I shouldn’t have backed you into a corner like that.”

 

Zayn smoothes his fingers along Liam’s until they insert between each other. His hands are all shaky, but warm and they hold onto Liam just a securely as he had been for the last half hour. Just as securely as Liam always wants to be felt.

 

“Liam… I need you to understand this right now, okay?”

 

His tone was so serious, Liam fell into complete silence as he nodded once.

 

“I really don’t care about what happened in our room.” Zayn wants to make sure Liam doesn’t think he’s angry at him for anything.

 

“I only care about _you_ . I shouldn’t have said that shit to you. I shouldn’t push you away from me, that was so, completely uncalled for--”  
  
  
“No it wasn’t.” Liam stops him there. “I attacked you first and made us both lash out. I have no right to tell you how to live and act like I’m the boss of your life. Who am I to tell you about _your_ problems? I didn’t know all that stuff happened to you... we don't have to talk about any of that stuff. The hard stuff.”  
  
  
“No, that _wasn't_ okay. This isn’t fucking tit-for-tat.” Zayn grimaced.

 

“I do have a problem. And everything I do affects you too and I _hate_ that. I don’t hate that you’re in my life, okay? I hate that my shit start becoming yours. I don’t mean my bed or my clothes. The _bad_ shit. I don’t want to be in another fucked up relationship like everyone else I’ve known. I try not to make my problems anyone else's except mine. But I can't expect that to happen with us. You're more than my roommate Liam.”

 

He looks between his eyes in a pause.

 

“You're my best friend.”

 

Liam smiles at his inflamed cheeks when Zayn looks down again.

 

“I haven't had one of them in a really long time. And they were usually girls.”

 

 _“I get it.”_ Liam narrows his eyes, getting the hint that Zayn’s “best friends” usually doubled as something else to him and they both laugh briefly until Zayn gets serious again with his bushy brows wrinkling.  
  
  
“Sometimes… I just don't want you to know me. All of me.”  
  
  
He doesn’t even have to ask why this time. He knows Zayn all too well to have to ask about that letter anymore.

 

He already knows exactly what he’ll say.  
  
  
_You won’t like me anymore._  
  
  
“Trust me, it's too late for that.”  
  
  
“No it’s not. I don't want to put you through what I've already put everyone in my life through. I know I’m hard to be around most of the time. This _hard_ stuff... hurts people. Everyone I love. I’m trying not to make this so hard for either of us.”

 

“I know you are.” Liam assures him, holding both his hands with braided fingers and swaying them back and forth between each other.

 

“And I think you’re doing a great job.”

 

Zayn laughed away from him, scepticism now all in the way he shakes his head like Liam is being ridiculous.

 

“You and this ‘you’re doing a great job’ is startin’ to sound like a lie. I said I didn't wanna hurt you and look what the fuck I go and do.”

 

His hands are moving up and down Liam’s arms as he says this, probably for reassurance or something of that platonic nature. But it’s distracting from the words coming out of his mouth. He doesn’t even think the extra affection is because their last interaction got a little rough. As he listens to Zayn carefully and notices how much the stress has left his body since before, he realises him being secure has calmed Zayn down too. Like Liam being hurt stresses him out more than his own hurt.

 

“I never meant to hurt you. I already lost so much, I don’t want to lose you too. It’s like… losing your heart.” Zayn admits.

 

_“Zayn,”_

 

“It’s true. I didn’t think I was ever going to see you again. I didn’t know how much losing you killed me until today.”

 

He pauses, the realisation to just how serious he is reverberating between both of them in another moment of silence.

 

“Okay,” Liam nods. “I’m still here. I’m not going anywhere.”

 

Zayn nods his head too instead of going back to wherever his head was before they both got here.

 

“This is all that really matters to me. I don’t care about any of that other shit. Just you and me and this moment now, yeah?”

 

“Yeah.” Liam smiles. Making up in this moment only felt right.

 

“You, me and this. I like that.”

 

 _Whatever_ this is.

 

Liam thinks about everything as he looks at their interlocked hands. How much he’s imagined being _this_ close to Zayn.

 

They’ve never really had a heart to heart before. At least, not sober. Every time he got a closer look at Zayn, he found something new to admire. Another part of his shadow stepping out to reveal who’s been there all this time.

 

He feels that shy light growing on them again like when they were up on a ledge under a moonlit sky again only this time it’s the grey clouds that are parting as the sun shines on them, bringing them closer to seeing more of each other in their entirety. He wonders what it will take to get all the way there if a fire is what it took to get here.

 

“If I’d known all I had to do to get you to open up to me was burn our room down, I would’ve done this months ago.”

 

When Zayn swats at him, Liam laughs and flinches away, shielding himself

 

“Too soon?--”

 

“Yes too soon!” Zayn yells at him. “It’s still _burning._ That’s another rule.”

 

“No more smoking?”

 

“Fuck no. We’ll smoke until we’re dead.” Zayn makes clear as he reached into his back pocket and took out his pack while Liam laughs, happy to be “we” again.

 

“We can burn our house down all we want. But not each other. You understand?”

 

Liam nods again so Zayn does too, lighting a cigarette with a grimace.

 

“I didn’t run in there because I thought the view would be nicer up close. If we're going to leave each other, we're gonna leave with a proper goodbye. Do you understand what I'm saying?”  
  
  
_“Yes.”_ Liam sighs with sincerity. “I _promise_ I do.”

 

He handed Liam a cigarette as they both started smoking then, Liam still turned towards Zayn even though Zayn has since sat up straight and regained his composure mostly concealed in his usual cloud of smoke, keeping his eyes forward and focused on the park instead of Liam as he stared into something in the distance.

 

It’s taken Zayn a while to get comfortable to Liam’s staring, definitely a weird activity they picked up the night they met that Liam would never be bored of it.

 

He now knows how to just sit and let Liam take pleasure in admiring him. Wondering about him and thirsting for more. Zayn was always completely aware of it from the start. With anyone else, it would’ve been weird. But they weren’t anyone else.

 

He didn’t feel like he was crossing any lines with being upfront with Zayn now. He was getting the sense that not openly acknowledging whatever moment they were having was going to be a thing of the past.

 

“Do you really risk your life because you love me or do you just love not living alone?”

 

“I think I can love both.” Zayn shrugged with an inhale. “It’s called duality.”

 

It’s funny how easy saying the word love to each other became. But love was just a word.

 

It’s not like they were really saying _that_ to each other. Just doing their dance around it like always.

 

“I think that’s called bisexuality.” Liam joked and Zayn looked at him again with a face he couldn’t read.

 

He didn’t laugh or scoff or even deny it. Liam swallows a lump in his throat when he doesn’t respond immediately.

 

“That was a _joke_.” He says slowly.

 

 _“Sure_ it was.” Zayn matches his tone as he blows smoke from the corner of his mouth in the other direction.

 

He finally looked away with a repressed smile he was trying not to let break across his face.

 

  
“So you still wanna live with me?” He asks. “Cause ain’t shit left to live with up there.”

 

Liam genuinely laughed at how absurd even the idea of getting a new roommate was at this point.  
  
  
“Who else are you gonna live with? You are _way_ too much to bare on your own.”

 

_“Watch it.”_

 

Zayn warns him not to tease too hard with a knuckle in Liam’s side that tickles him into squirming. He tells him they can go apartment hunting later until they work out how much damage has been done and Zayn agrees he’s pretty much free for the rest of his life.

  
  
“Since we’re putting it all out there…. I guess you should know I lied to you.” Liam says out of the blue as Zayn blows smoke, squinted to the side.  


“I know you're gay, Liam.”

 

Liam shoves him.  


“I'm _talking_ about before!”

 

Liam looks down now. Zayn watches him with a soft smile for a moment before he finally asks with all jokes aside.

 

“What’d you lie to me about, Liam Payne.”

 

“When you asked if anyone’s ever... done that to me before.”

 

“Ate your ass?”

 

Liam nods but he squeezes his eyes closed at how bluntly Zayn puts it without a single shame. He understands why he’s surprised since he knows Liam is a huge slut but, Zayn has never judged him before and he still doesn’t now.

 

“Why would you lie to me about something like that?”

 

He looks up at Zayn finally.

 

“Because I know you were just trying to make me feel better about myself.”

 

“Maybe I just like eating ass and you have a nice one. You ever think that, smart guy?”

 

“I just… I know you. And why you do that stuff for me. Take me places I’ve never been and get me stuff I’ve never had... You know no one’s ever been nice to me before. You’re the first.”    
  
  
He doesn’t try to deny that this time or turn it into a joke. Zayn blinked down at the ground as he held his lips in, nervous as his knee started bouncing below him.

 

“Whatever.” He shrugged. “I don’t mind making you feel good too.”

 

  
“I wanna treat you the same way. Whatever you want to know about me, I won’t hide it either.”

 

  
“Then come to the park with me.” He said, not taking his eyes off the distance his eyes had gone although, Liam could tell he was trying not to smile.

 

Liam does the same, trying to find this “Luck” that Zayn’s supposed to be cheating on him with.  


“Thought my replacement was going with you.”  


“Nobody replaces you. He doesn’t watch me skate like you do.”

 

That was a damn lie. _Everyone_ watches Zayn skate. All the hot skater girls especially. But everyone with a sense of sight always watches Zayn with heart eyes no matter what he was doing.

 

Zayn saying that makes Liam wonder how what’s so different about the way he watches Zayn compared to everyone else.  
  
  
“I'll come with you to the park if you come with me to the library to study.” Liam bargains.

 

“Deal.” He agrees easily.  
  
  
Zayn always tutors Liam for free. But before Zayn even knows what he’s doing it, Liam slides his hand behind his back to get his flask out of his back pocket ever so gently.  
  
  
“... and you don't get your flask back until we're done.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Out of sheer habit, Zayn reached back into his bottomless pocket for it and realised he’d just been pickpocketed as he finds his pocket empty and his flask dangling in Liam’s hand with a cheesy grin he mimics in Zayn’s signature move when hitting on Liam.

 

He pulls it back when Zayn tries to take it, falling over each other on the bench. But his arms are longer than Zayn’s so holding it out of his reach is easy.  
  
  
“Who the fuck are you, my A.A. now?” Zayn laughs  
  
  
“I think I know you too well to be considered anony _mous!”_ Liam shrieks at the end when Zayn full on straddles him so they’re actually wrestling on the bench.

 

The birds chirp and the clouds push across the smoky sky. And Liam had a wonderful thought that this would _not_ be the day that they broke up. The evening continued on.

 

After a short fight between them, it becomes clear he won’t be getting his flask back if he wants Liam to go anywhere with him.

 

“Okay, fine.” he rolls his eyes as he stands up and holds his hand out.

 

“I don’t break your rule if you don’t break mine.”  
  
  
“Deal.” Liam lets him pull him to his feet as well as they shake on it.

 

As he’s being pulled up Zayn’s grip suddenly tightens around his wrist. Before he even knows it, Liam is being yanked up into him, making him trip with a surprised yelp. Zayn only smiles, not wanting anything in particular. Just getting Liam into his personal space… until Liam realises he’s trying to steal his flask so pushes him off before Zayn can get his hand into his back pocket.  
  
  
They agreed to go see their room later since Liam needed to call their insurance and _yes_ he got insurance for Zayn's side of the room too because he used everything on it just as much as Zayn and he knew Zayn wasn't responsible enough to get it.

 

He filled their day with about a hundred errands just to if Zayn could go all day without reaching for Liam's backside.

 

For Zayn, that would be next to impossible.

 

**✯✯✯**

 

[ [Casual Encounters - James Tillman] ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3JtCXn7Njhk)

 

“Hi, I'm Liam.”

 

Liam rehearsed his intro for what could potentially be their new landlord while they were walking down the street after stopping for coffee in the way to an open house.

 

Zayn decided that authority-like figures liked Liam better than him although Liam had no idea where Zayn got that thought from when all he does is smile at the landlord, female or male, put on his most polite accent and they are instantly shown the best spot in the neighbourhood.

 

“I'm a single, 19 year old art major into my second year into NYU. I work for two major art galleries in Manhattan that pay pretty well. I currently don’t have any debt but after I’m cut off for turning my room to ashes today--”

 

“Are you applying for a dating website?” Zayn stops him there.

 

“They don’t care about that shit. This ad says they want _interestin’_ tenants. Be _interestin’_.”

 

“I thought I was being _‘interesten’.”_ Liam mocks his voice with a taunting expression.

 

“Should I list burning down our last apartment as an interesting quality? Because that’s all we have going for us now.”

 

“Start over.” Zayn commands as he shoves him.

 

Liam rolls his eyes as he thinks for a moment, looking down at his sweater.

 

“This is my favourite outfit.” He restarts, which makes Zayn laugh.

 

“My roommate converted me to satanism so our house burned down during a routinely scheduled ritual. But that only happens once a year. If interested, please take my number. And also do you have room for two?”

 

He turns to Zayn now.  
  
  
“How's that sound?”  
  
  
“ _Painfully_ honest.”  
  
  
“So perfect?”  
  
  
“Totally.” Zayn smiles.

 

Liam shakes his head now, not finding this funny to joke about anymore as they are seriously not having luck with finding decent apartments in this borough as they scan through the paper in his hands between them.

 

There’s only so far they can go in Brooklyn Heights. They're at the end of the block now.  
  
  
“Shit, what are we gonna do?” Liam cries dramatically as he covers his face and buries himself in Zayn’s side.

 

“I’m a homeless! This is _so_ unacceptable.”  
  
  
“I’ll protect you.” Zayn says with an easy shrug as he pats Liam’s shoulder reassuringly, pulling him into a little sideways hug that made Liam soften inside as his own arm swung out to hold Zayn’s back.

 

It wasn’t until he was held did Liam realise how tense he was. He could feel the stress melting away in Zayn’s arms, just knowing if there was ever someone he knew would always be there for him, he wasn’t but an arms length away.

 

There were still tonnes of people out walking around, as their always is, but Liam covering his eyes and keeping his face in Zayn shoulder as he guided them along the street made it easy to pretend like they were the only ones around.

 

The PDA alert was signalling off the charts but it felt too good to let go of. They left the shambles of their neighbourhood, not in any kind of rush.

 

 _“Don’t worry so much, okay?”_ Zayn said a little more quiet near Liam’s ear as his hand slid down his waist comfortingly.

 

He gave Liam a kiss on his temple.

 

_“We'll figure it out.”_

 

This feeling was suddenly too much.

 

He finally sat up and put some space between them again so Zayn’s hands fell off, just out of reach, not wanting to get totally lost in Zayn’s feel-good reassurance.  
  
  
“You know, you seem astonishingly calm for someone who's living on the street.”  
  
  
“I don't know about _you_ but, I've got plenty of beds to sleep in tonight. It's just like we said. I've got you and you've got me. I'm sure someone we know will let us crash for a week or two. Styles already said we can stay with him and Pez for as long as we need to.”

 

Liam Payne did not _do_ sofas and futons. Not in his lifetime and now, not for the rest of Zayn’s either.

 

He would not settle for anything less than his own bed that was not attached to questionable whereabouts like that of a hotel or two friends who are known to fuck against every surface in their house. He knew where they had to go and Brooklyn wasn’t it anymore.  
  
  
“I think I'm gonna have to call my parents.”

 

When Zayn looks at him, he swore the colour in his face paled. It was like he was turning to stone.  
  
  
“Your... _parents?”_ He repeats slowly.

 

He said it like it was code for the mafia. Liam nods absently as he's scrolling through his cell phone with dread.  
  
  
“What do you needa call _them_ for?”  
  
  
“So we can move into a new apartment, duh.” Liam snorts.

 

“I can't just buy whatever I want without telling them first.”

 

Instead of making some joke about Liam being a spoiled rich kid, Zayn got really quiet then as Liam made his phone call, which was totally out of character.

 

It only puzzled Liam for a moment until he realised the only time he ever mentions their existence to Zayn is in a way that makes them seem like some cosmic, unseen force that made money appear out of thin air. Even though he knows Liam wasn’t getting gifted thousands of dollars every week from a secret sugar daddy, he never noticed that the smallest mention of them seemed to make Zayn nervous.

  
  
A few minutes later, Liam gets permission to squat at a property his family owns in a neighbourhood in Upper Manhattan until he gets back a word from their insurance company.  
  
  
“Do you ever actually talk to _them?”_ Zayn asks curiously.  
  
  
“I didn’t used to but my dad thinks it's important to update frequently now that I'm across the entire Atlantic.”  
  
  
“As opposed to halfway to yesteryear in Sweden.”  
  
  
"Very funny." Liam nods with a frown after he hangs up the phone with their housekeeper.

 

Zayn turns his skateboard over in his hands distractingly now.  
  
  
“Do they…” He hesitates for a moment.

 

“Do they know about… _me?”_ _  
_  
  
Liam looks up at him as his tone sounds strange.  
  
  
“They know I have a roommate, yes.”  
  
  
“I didn't ask if they knew you lived with someone. Do they know about _me_.”

 

When Zayn decides to start doing that dance around using certain words, it always reminds Liam of someone who is trying to dodge getting burned as they dash through a room of lasers. It takes a minute to understand what he’s trying to say.

 

He’s wondering if they know about Liam seeing anyone and he’s not sure why Zayn is even asking him this, as if he would ever tell them.  
  
  
“What do you think?” Liam almost laughs.

 

“Why would they?”  
  
  
For a split second, Zayn looks a little hurt that Liam has never mentioned him to his parents.

 

The expression doesn't last long. He laughs away from Liam with his head down for a moment, kicking his board up into his hand as he shakes his head.    
  
  
“Sorry for assuming that you tell everyone who's dick your sucking.”  
  
  
Liam rolls his eyes as they walk on their way again.  
  
  
_"They don't need to know everything about me."_ He mutters to himself, then louder to Zayn.  
  
  
"All I have to do is send them the bill. We'll be on Park Avenue in less than a day."  
  
  
“So what do your parents do anyways?” Zayn continues with his weird sudden interest in Liam’s family.  
  
  
“I mean, I knew you’re folks were loaded but the only people that even look at real estate on the Upper East side usually spawn... heirs.”  
  
  
“You make it sound like I'm 90th in line for the throne as a Prince in the royal family or something.”    
  
  
“Are you?”  
  
  
“Are you serious?”  
  
  
“Liam, do you realise that I don't even know where you're _from?_ What happened to ask about whatever I want?”  
  
  
“Chiswick.” Liam answers easily.  
  
  
“That's like... West London, right?”  
  
  
Liam nods, slightly impressed that Zayn knows where that is. He forgot Zayn has always been a straight A student. He probably aced Geography in high school.  
  
  
“I come from the traditionally boring blue-blooded family with one boring WASP, transAtlantic dad called Jeffrey who left home to teach at Cambridge where he met one boring debutante called Victoria who has everything _but_ a courtesy title.”

  
“So your dads like a mason.”  
  
  
It wasn't a question. Now Zayn knows why Liam is mum about why they’re so rich.

 

"I’ve never understood that."

 

“Understood what?”

 

“The masonry, monarch thing. It’s a fucking waste.”

 

An anti-imperialist living with the son of a mason… how the fuck did _that_ never come up?

 

Moments like these remind Liam that despite everything, he only met Zayn last year. There was probably a lot they still have yet to know about each other.  
  
  
From what Zayn understood, a WASP was a White Anglo-Saxon Protestant. The W used to stand for wealthy but the latter stuck. Generally an American of British descent.

 

Liam could probably trace his pedigree here all the way back to the colonial period.  
  
  
“You are officially the most British person I've ever met. Not only are you from one of those big scary Manhattan families and basically a _royal_ but your ancestors were quite literally colonizers.”  
  
  
“I guess.” Liam shrugs. “I’m technically not affiliated with any monarchies. My grandpa didn't give his daughter the title of a Princess so she was just born as the daughter of an Earl which doesn't really mean anything in this country.”

 

“And here I thought we were from 2 different planets.”  
  
  
“Yeah me too.” Liam agreed with a laugh.  
  
  
“We used to visit my dad’s mother there when I was younger but I haven't seen it since she passed away. Our family has owned the entire estate since it was built in 1912.” Liam smiles over at Zayn with excitement then.  
  
  
"It's a 2 and a half bedroom, 1 bath multi-family townhouse. 2,800 square feet. It's like a wonderful fantasy, you'll love it!"  
  
  
Liam asks Zayn why he's laughing when he looks away from him.  
  
  
"I've never seen someone get so emotional over real estate like you."  
  
  
"You should be excited too. You're obviously going to be living with me for the rest of our lives."  
  
  
"True." Zayn nodded in agreement.  
  
  
"But that sounds really fucking expensive. I don’t want to live in a fantasy. I don't think I can afford it."  
  
  
"It's probably worth like... 4 or 5 mil. Everything in it is, like, colonial classic. You couldn’t pay for anything even if you wanted to." Liam shrugs with a casual laugh. He misses Zayn’s jaw dropping to the ground.  
  
  
"But it's only temporary. It’s already half furnished since no one has used it since nan. My dad owns half of it now, we don’t have to pay for anything. He said I can stay there for a few weeks but I'm sure I can convince him to let me move our stuff in once the gallery officially moves. Less commuting."  
  
  
“I can’t believe you’re just now telling me you come from a long line of fancy Catholic nobles, politicians, and satanists.” Zayn shakes his head, still baffled.  
  
  
“Basically the epitome of ‘the Establishment’ of the elite society. At least, that’s what those blue-blooded legions are to my knowledge.”

 

When he gets like this, Liam gets reminded that behind Zayn’s beautiful face is an analytical history major that has curated knowledge like a scholar. He smiles at him.  
  
  
“My dad’s like 1,000 years old. He’s retired. I'm not a satanist, I promise.”  
  
  
“But you were still taught savoir-faire.”  
  
  
“Yeah but, most high society crowds teach their kids manners. I mean, I was in boarding school. They basically force feed us social etiquette.”  
  
  
“Really?”

 

“Well, I didn’t _choose_ to go.”

 

“No, I mean you really went to boarding school for that?”

 

Liam didn’t want to tell him what they actually sent him out of the country for. He didn’t know how he’d react and everyone still seen Liam as an angel without a bad bone in his body and he didn’t want Zayn’s perfect view of him to change. He couldn’t bring himself to lie either so, he deflects the question altogether.  
  
  
“Don't you know all British kids go to boarding school?”  
  
  
“All boys?”  
  
  
Liam nods.  
  
  
"No wonder you're so..." Zayn never finishes the sentence, leaving it hanging in the air for a long while as they walk in silence for a minute.

 

Liam wonders about what he was going to say.

 

Instead of finishing his sentence, Zayn changes the subject completely.

 

“So you moved to New York and burned down your living quarters. What’s the next plan, Chester?”

 

This is why Liam never told him about Chiswick. He rolls his eyes at his new nickname.  
  
  
“WASPS all get living quarters assigned to them when we’re initiated into the illuminati.”

 

He can tell Zayn doesn’t know if he’s joking and he finds that quite laughable.

 

“That was a joke.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Well you didn’t laugh.”  
  
  
“Mostly because I was expecting you to say _‘Blow you,’_ so, it was a bit of a disappointment.”  
  
  
“I was going to say _fuck you,_ actually.” Liam nods.

 

He didn’t realise the way that was coming out until it was all the way out. Although, the innuendo also works.

 

It’s worth it when Zayn’s brows shoot up as his head falls down, laughing with red cheeks. So Liam doesn’t take it back.

  
  
“You think I'm lying?”  
  
  
“I don’t know about you sometimes, man.” Zayn only shakes his head.

 

They both know he’s being completely serious but Liam likes making his blush.  
  
  
“What about you?”  
  
  
“Right about now? If things were going my way I'd be walking around my lavishly decorated, L.A. pad,”  
  
  
“You want to live in L.A?”

 

That was oddly unexpected. Nothing about Zayn screamed California. He was more of a city guy.

 

Then again, a lot about Zayn from the outside view was models, sex and affectation. Maybe he would fit in L.A.  
  
  
“To check out my expensive view of a new city? Yeah.” Zayn nods with a sigh.

 

Usually, when Zayn got all serious and dreamy like that and said something Liam never knew about him, he just fell deeper in love with whatever the story about him continued to tell. But he couldn’t see Zayn in L.A.

 

He’s sort been the epitome of _New York_ to Liam.

 

“I can't imagine you anywhere else but here, Z...”

 

He says that more to himself than to Zayn.

 

Now it’s got him wondering… does Zayn want to leave New York after he was done at N.Y.U.? He knows Zayn wants to be a teacher but, he could do that anywhere.

 

Liam is now morally obligated to obsessively think of the future again.

 

What the hell was going too happen to them after college? He hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. He hadn’t imagined life beyond the shared four walls he’d just burned down. Zayn really was asking the right question here.

 

Where were they going next?  
  
  
“Don’t get me wrong, the city is great on all sides. Queens, uptown, Mt. Vernon, Manhattan… I love it all.” Zayn makes clear he’s not saying he doesn’t like it where they are now.

 

“Except fuck the Bronx.”

 

Liam laughs when he adds that.

 

“Maybe you can't catch a cab at 3 in the morning or watch a French classic at midnight anywhere else but, you can make your life in a lot of different places. Don't you wanna be somewhere new? _Be_ someone new. See the world at another angle. Old world… new world… ” Zayn has since stopped asking Liam this, asking himself that.

 

 _“I_ do.”  
  
  
“I’ve already seen the old world. It’s _old_. Best views are here.”

 

“You’ve never seen the world with _me.”_

 

Liam shakes his head with a smile.

 

“I’ve never loved being anywhere as much here. I am deeply in love this city. Can’t imagine leaving it for someone else anymore.”

 

Zayn gives him a questionable side-eye.

 

“Wow. How poetic.” He teases Liam, who rolls his eyes even though he was now the one blushing really hard.

 

 _“It’s true.”_ He murmurs with a slight shrug.

 

Zayn starts to paint of picture of the life that belonged to a version of him that doesn’t exist that he’s imagined in his head.

 

“My next home is filled with city lights and good music. My bed is a king and my walls are full of expensive art and expensive wine that I actually know shit about. I sleep every night. I’m not tired all the time and actually wake up feeling well-rested, ready to face the day and happier than the night before. I drink coffee instead of vodka in the morning. And I’m never lonely, even when I'm alone. That’s the start of my place.”

 

While he didn’t think the fence could be any lower for Zayn’s whole “world” to be in Cali, now that he’s put it like that… he realises he’s just describing his place in _life_. Not just where he wants to live.

 

Not only could he imagine it too now but, he _wanted_ Zayn to have that. Liam was rooting for Zayn to be there one day. Sober and happy.

 

He deserved to be in a good place in life. Finally rested and at peace with everything in the past one.

 

“Sounds like one of those coming of age, independent films about finding yourself.”

 

“Yeah… that’s the idea.” He smiles at Liam, which means he's expecting Liam to share his future now.

 

“What about you?”

 

“My place?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Well, it’s a bit edgier than yours.” Liam starts. “Some high rise rooftop apartment with the same city lights as yours, twinkling in the street below. I buy and sell other people's artwork. My friends are just as fabulous as me even though we drink too much wine on Monday nights and see french films at the Angelica at 3 in the morning. We're all successful. No homo signs are banished. Being on time is the only rule of the house but we break it anyways.”

 

“That sounds like _our_ place.”

 

“Yeah, it does doesn’t it?” Liam laughs after realising he’s describing a better version of the place that’s on the ground behind them.

 

They both smiled towards the sun shining through the trees, camouflage shadows prancing across their faces under the canopy in the park. The smell of fresh baked goods from the bakery down the street sweeps under their noses and filled them with the sweet feeling that this would still be home until then.

 

Here he thought they were from two different planets when it turns out, they were both simply looking at the same place from two different angles, describing the same painted picture with their own interpretations.

 

Wherever this future was, there was no doubt they were both be in it somewhere. Although Liam left that part out of “his place”, it was still easy for him to imagine the familiar feeling of heat from his body where he’d lay on the other side of the bed every night and morning.

 

Even when Zayn’s not there, he still saves a place for him.

 

“Thoughts like these make life feel easier, huh?” Liam sighs wistfully after his head goes to the gutter, wishing they _were_ seeing the same future.

 

That place in his head waking up next to Zayn, wrapped up in their sheets where the sun shines on his face when he’s still asleep. Even with his eyes closed, still the prettiest.

 

The reality was a little more unsightly.

 

Liam would graduate and probably go back to the old world in Europe where he would bone the sons of shipping moguls while studying under some wannabee Monet to play the Master and the Apprentice while Zayn got a degree in education and got married to some girl he met in undergrad that he’d have 2 daughters with named after some flowers like Rose and Lily.

 

These fantasies of Liam’s got _really_ specific.

 

Liam would look back on the deliriously drunk memories of these early years with no regret, grateful that it happened while Zayn… well, he didn’t know about where Zayn stood sometimes.

 

He might in this moment now but, who knows if he would see things as this simple in the future.

 

“What’s complicating it?” Zayn’s question breaks him out of his head.

 

“Los Angeles is just a glorified stepping stone from here. Anywhere is, really if you don’t like that. I wouldn’t mind having an annoying roommate.”

 

Liam gives Zayn a look, searching for the joke but… there wasn’t one.

 

While it was nice to fantasise, it was naive to think they’d still _actually_ be roommates in that place somewhere in the future. But Zayn has that deadass look like he’s being serious.

 

“I don’t know… _wives?”_ Liam points out, like it should be obvious. “Kids and careers? Overall change overtime”  
  
  
_“Wives??”_ Zayn staggered, like he couldn’t believe Liam just said that.

 

“You see a _wife_ in your future?”

 

Liam gives Zayn a confused look.

 

Does he _look_ like he sees a wife in his future?

 

He wasn’t even talking about himself so Zayn’s head was clearly somewhere completely different than Liam’s.

 

He runs the conversation through his head again, replaying the image of Zayn’s place in his head.

 

Expensive wine… expensive paintings… that wasn’t Zayn.

 

It’s _Liam!_

 

Did Zayn want Liam to move to L.A. with him?

 

Liam was totally down with that if that’s where this conversation was going, ready to jump in Zayn’s suitcase and hop on the next flight out of here. If Zayn wants to take this to the next level, no big deal. Buy a cheap loft together. Adopt a puppy… maybe a kid eventually. Or 5. They could get engaged right _now_ if he wants. Whatever. No big deal at all.

 

The way Liam’s heart is racing says otherwise.

 

Liam was already mentally choosing the theme of their colour scheme, hearing their song playing in the hall as they did their old dance around each other in each room with the drum beat of [ Dreams ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XecDz-o-KnY)echoing away in the distance…

 

What a dream that would surely be.

 

“What the hell are you grinning at?” Zayn squints at him.

 

“No… I don’t see a wife in my future.” Liam finally answered with a smile and Zayn nods with another smug grin.

 

“Yeah, that’s what I _thought.”_

 

It now occurs to Liam what Zayn was going to say earlier.

 

_‘No wonder you’re so…’_

  
  
After a while, Liam looks over at him again.  
  
  
“Zayn?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“... you think I'm gay?”

 

Zayn glanced over at him with one eyebrow quirked kind of funny, looking away slowly.

 

“... _aren’t_ you?” He snorts.

 

Liam shakes his head with a shrug as he stares at the ground, mumbling a short, _“dunno..”,_ under his breath.  
  
_  
_ _“Liam.”_

 

Just from the way Zayn says his name, he could tell he was trying not to burst out laughing again as his lips closed over a flat smile.

 

“I think that's a question you should be asking yourself.” He finally says.

 

“But yeah. You're totally fucking gay.” He’s sure to answer anyway.

  
  
“It's college. Who gives a fuck?”  
  
  
“Not you.” Liam looks up at him now.  
  
  
“Everyone here is fucking gay. Even Harry.”

 

“He’s bi.”

 

“Yeah, well whatever.” Zayn waves him off as he squints ahead.

 

“Everyone’s _something.”_  
  
  
“Except for you.” Liam repeats with a bright chirp and Zayn doesn’t ignore it this time as he smirks at Liam from the side of his eye.  
  
  
“Except for me.” He nods in agreement.

 

  
“I mean, come on Liam. Anyone that likes sucking dick as much as you do has _got_ to be 1,000% homo.”

Liam decide to stop playing along with his absurd ideas.

 

  
“What about you then?”  
  
  
“What _about_ me?”  
  
  
“Anyone that likes getting their dick sucked as much as you--”  
  
  
“Yeah, me and 99.9 percent of the dicks dangling on this planet.”  
  
  
“You didn't let me _finish_ . Anyone that likes getting their dick sucked by _me_ as much as you do…” He lets his sentence trail off now.  
  
  
“What exactly are you implying?”

 

“Why can’t you just admit that you’re in love with me and want to spend the rest of your life with me sucking you off?”

 

Liam is going to force Zayn to admit it today if it’s the last thing he ever does.

 

“That the minute you first laid eyes on me that night, you just _knew_ I was the one--”

 

“Alright, let me just stop you right there. _”_ Zayn laughs as he stops walking.

 

“ _First_ of all, I don’t need to admit anything. That night wasn’t the first time that I saw you and I had no idea who you were at first glance. That was just a weird coincidence.”

 

Liam crosses his arms over his chest as they stand off, tilting his head sideways

 

“Then why did you do any of that stuff?”

 

“I always clown frat boys at their parties.”

 

“ _No_ . Why’d you single me out. Stay with me all night. I mean, why _me?"_ _  
  
_

 

His brows wrinkle inward as he purses his lips, looking down in thought while Liam waits.

 

He starts walking again and Liam follows along attentively.

  
  
"I don’t know… I was alone for a long time.” He shrugs finally. “For a while, it felt like I was all I had and I'm not _much_. When I saw you there, I got a feeling that I'd known you before. Not as some guy from my class. I just felt like I knew you.” He pauses for a moment before he shakes his head.

 

“Actually no... I felt like you knew _me_ . And I've never felt like that before."  
  
  
"Really?"  
  
  
"The way you look at me, yeah. It just feels familiar. I guess I thought you felt it too." Zayn smiles over at him then with a snort.  
  
  
"Strange, huh?"  
  
  
"No. Not at all."  
  
  
Liam would've said he knew exactly what Zayn meant. How odd it was to meet a familiar stranger. How odd it was to be _known_.

 

All his life, he felt like a stranger to everyone. Even the people that made him. But when Zayn looked at him, it suddenly felt like there was maybe someone on the planet that did know him.  
  
  
Now if it were anyone else, that wouldn't mean a lot. Knowing someone didn't really mean shit in reality because people change. Even people who are your friends now maybe one day won't be anymore.

 

Liam hasn’t been the same person all his life and neither has Zayn, even compared to a year ago.

 

If there were ever two strangers that would've came across each other before… well, it wasn't them. But somehow, it was. And he couldn't have been more happy that he'd bumped into this one so many times in a city of a million more. Too many times to be an incidental coincidence.

 

He knew they didn’t have to admit anything to each other. They already knew.  
  
  
"I'm glad you feel that way." Liam said with a smile, instead admitting he felt the same way.  
  
  
"Yeah. Me too." Zayn smiled to himself as well.  
  
  
"It's a nice feeling."  
  
  
It really was. Then Zayn goes on to add, just for the record.  
  
  
“If Randy had put his hands on you, I dead would've killed him Liam.”  
  
  
“No you would _not_ .” Liam rolled his eyes.  
  
  
“Deadass would’ve had a felony.”  
  
  
“You didn't even know me.”  
  
  
“But the guy had it coming. I can't stand watching people step on the little guy.”  
  
  
“So that's it. _That's_ why you saved me. By _chance_ . It wasn't at all related to your obvious mission to get me naked at the end of the night? Our entire relationship wasn’t all one big act of fate but actually _Randy?”_  
  
  
“Oh Liam, come on, don’t start that.” Zayn rolls his eyes towards the sky. “Relationships don’t all have motives. They’re incidental. We would’ve met somewhere else, eventually.”

 

“But it wouldn’t have meant as much if it was in our bedroom.”

 

“Isn’t that where the magic happens?”

 

 _“Z…_ I’m serious. _”_

 

“As am _I_. It would’ve been the same anywhere.”

 

Liam only shook his head, looking forward with his arms still crossed.

 

“Well, I don’t believe you.”

 

“Well, that’s not my problem.”  
  
  
“Why don’t you take anything serious? Why are you so afraid of being in a _serious_ relationship?”  
  
  
It was a pretty serious question so, it gets a serious look from Zayn in response.  
  
  
“Okay, _serious_ pause.” Zayn stops dead in his tracks, holding his hands up to motion a time out and the vibe becomes all so familiar again.

 

“We need to back this up for a minute before you start getting hysterical on me again. First of all, you don’t know _shit_ about a serious relationship. You don’t want that with me.”

 

Liam didn’t want to go back to where they were but, it was too late. They were already here, back at square one. He was all but ready to propose to Liam 10 minutes ago. Maybe not marriage but going from being on the brink of asking Liam to move away with him to wanting to stop discussing the status of their relationship still made all the difference.

 

So close one moment, distances away the next on Zayn’s rollercoaster.  
  
  
“You think it's just that easy?” He smiles.  
  
  
“That two people can just decide 'fuck, I really like this person. We should be together!'”  
  
  
_Yes._  
  
  
“ _Nothing_ is that easy, Liam.”  
  
  
“Why can't it be? Maybe people just complicate things because we're scared it won't work out. I mean, why can't we just tell whoever we like the truth? If you love someone, why can't you tell them exactly that. Forget about the rules or fear of looking ridiculous.”

 

Zayn cants his head with a sideways smirk.  
  
  
“I like you.” Liam offers with a smile. “See how easy that was?”

 

Zayn just shakes his head.  
  
  
“Maybe guys like _me_ aren't so sure that we can just walk up to anyone and profess shit you'd respond to _‘seriously’_ if I said 'I like you too’.”  
  
  
“You definitely could walk up to anyone in your vicinity and convince them to accept whatever you proposition them with--”  
  
  
“No, Liam. You're not hearing me.”  
  
  
He pauses right in front of Liam and repeated himself again.  
  
  
“I _LIKE_ YOU!”  
  
  
“And I like you too!” Liam yells back.  
  
  
Miraculously, absolutely nothing changed. The sky didn’t crack open nor did the second coming of Christ start. Everything continued.

 

“So what more do you _want_ from me!?” Zayn continues the yelling competition.

 

“You already _have_ me. I am constantly making an effort to make this something and that’s not enough for you. So what else do you want? _This_ is all that I have.”

 

Liam can tell this is starting to exhaust him.

 

They stare without a word for one moment before Zayn laughs, shaking his head towards the sky as he's looking away.  
  
  
“See that? _Nothing.”_ Zayn answers for him.  
  
  
“It’s almost like I don’t have what you actually want. And _that_ is exactly why trying to form the kind of relationship you’re talking about is so goddamn impossible. You think you we handle it and guess what? _We can't._ Because in actuality, _you don't know what you want.”_ _  
_  
  
No, Liam really didn't know what he wanted from Zayn. Maybe he didn’t want to introduce him to his parents or let everyone in America know about what went on in the privacy of their bedroom but whatever it was, being just a little bit more friends wasn't enough. He knew that much.    
  
  
As he watched Zayn turn away and shake his head like he was disappointed, in that moment Liam knew _exactly_ what he wanted.

 

It wasn’t anything from Zayn but something he wanted from himself.

 

He wanted to be anyone else but who he was. Someone who'd inspire Zayn to be in love. Not someone who's served as a reminder of why he _hates_ being in love.

 

He wanted Zayn to be in love with him too.  
  
  
_“That's bullshit.”_ Liam mumbled, loud enough for Zayn to look back and ask him what he said.  
  
  
“I said _that's bullshit.”_ _  
_ _  
_ _  
_ _“_ No Liam, _you're_ bullshit. I asked you what want from me and you don't even know. So I'll just tell you.”  
  
  
“Okay Zayn.” Liam rolled his eyes.

 

“Please tell me more about _me_ .”  
  
  
Just like the first time, he does. And like always, he hit the mark exactly where it was.  
  
  
“You want _me_ to give you my heart and you know what? If I had one, I probably would.” Zayn answers something he didn't even realise he wanted to know.     
  
  
"But I don't." He shrugs almost like he's apologising.  
  
  
"Sorry that I lost it before I met you. But I don't have anything else to offer you since I have next to nothing. And you wanna know what sickest part about this is with you? _You don't even WANT to be in love with me!”_ He says the last part so quietly but it has the same effect as yelling it would’ve.

 

“You just want _me_ to be in love with _you_ . And you know how I know that about you? Because I can see that you have absolutely no emotion stamina for me. You're not heavily involved with me either because you have a serious problem with intimacy. You keep me at a certain _distance_ that YOU see fit. So stop acting like you're the only one who just has to go along with _whatever_ like you're the only one on an emotional roller coaster stringing you along for some wacky ride we're _both_ waiting to get off of.”  
  
  
_Ouch_ .  
  
  
Liam never said all that... but it didn't matter because Zayn was right.

 

He didn't have to admit he's been waiting for when they would part ways for real this time. Or that he's been actively trying to stay prepared to be the one that detached first when they do.

  
“It's like I can almost _feel_ you just waiting to pack your fucking bags and run in the opposite direction of me in case of emergencies." Zayn continues to tell Liam he can see right through his glass closet.  
  
  
"If I reached for you right now or tried to hold you for longer than 5 seconds, you'd fucking snatch away from me. When we go out together anywhere in public, God FORBID I even fucking look at you the wrong way without you getting out garlic, a silver cross and a shotgun.”

 

“Zayn,” Liam punches out his name his nervous laugh with his eyes closed.

 

“ _Stop,”_  
  
  
“You think that’s funny because you know it’s true.” Zayn laughs too for a moment before he gets serious again.

 

“You want something from me that you aren't even willing to give me yourself and that's fucked up, Liam. You are just as emotionally unavailable for this as you claim I am. The difference between me and you is, at least I'm out in the open about it. In the event of this being a serious relationship, I can bet my entire ass you’d be the one cheating on me before I _ever_ do on you. I'm not ever going to deny that we care about each other. It's impossible to act like I don't care about you. But stop bullshitting me with this fucking fairytale about being in love because you don’t even know what love _is_ . You can’t tell the difference in that and carnal attraction but I do and it is _nothing_ like what you think it is.”

 

Suddenly, Liam’s wrists are in Zayn’s hands as he holds his speeding pulse that only starts hammering away even harder. And Zayn’s uses the beat inside Liam as his example of exactly why they’d never work.  
  
  
“I can feel your heart _speeding_ right now. You are in this for the thrill of it. This flooding rush someone like me gives you. Because you _love_ feeling like you're in danger. Not me.”

 

Liam pulls his hands away, rubbing down his own pulse as his face burns.  
  
  
“You are an adrenaline junkie, playing Russian Roulette and I'm the pistol, right? Isn't that what you told me?”  
  
  
_Yeah_ . Liam thinks. He did. But he can admit that it was totally wrong.  
  
  
“I'm not going to apologise for not going along with your fantasy, Liam. That's just not how I play this game. You told me yourself that you don't want to be with someone like me. The bad guy who looks pretty and tastes good. Apparently, I can't change that you'll always see someone in me that inspires you to instantly distrust and brace yourself for the worst and I'm done trying to prove to you that I'm not _that_ guy.”

 

There’s a pause, like he’s waiting for Liam to offer a counter argument where there isn’t one. So the verbal beatdown just goes on.  
  
  
“You want simple? _Here's_ simple: we fuck with each other whenever we want and we fuck with whoever else when we don’t simply because we can. There is no deeper meaning or higher truth and that doesn't have to change anything between us right now. Let's keep it as real as that shall we?”

 

He walks away as he covers his eyes as he wipes down his entire face with a drawn out groan, muttering that he needs a drink. Liam just takes him to a vending machine nearby instead for a can of pop.  
  
  
Liam didn’t know how to tell Zayn things he can’t form the words to admit. That he wasn't afraid of him specifically or embarrassed to be seen with him in public.

 

Liam’s not out and open. He’s afraid of everything in the world. _Their_ world, it terrifies him. What they’ll think when they see them together and _know_. How they’ll react or what it’s felt like walking through life paranoid of eyes like Zayn’s that see through him.

 

Zayn just happens to be the only perfect thing apart of the fucked up world they live in. Where people like Randy live.

 

He can only imagine and dread how Zayn would react if someone ever decided to say something in response to seeing them together and he’s thankful that’s never happened. _Yet_.

 

He never thought of Zayn as the bad guy. The day they met, the first thing Liam thought was that he’d just met his hero.

Maybe a little further down the line he realised Zayn was more like the _anti-_ hero that deserves more but still. Someone who, if he'd known way back when, Liam would've looked up to and still sort of does now.

 

Someone brave who’s always there for him when he needs them to be whether it’s to defend his honour or keep him company when he’s sick, saving the day like fucking Batman and never expecting anything back. Someone who seems like would survive a plane crash. Like if a fucking bus hit him, the only thing Zayn would do is hit it right back, harder. Someone sweet who thinks about Liam when the weather is being poetic and sad and gets him drunk on school nights but makes the hangovers disappear like all the other villains in his life and gets him A’s in all his classes. Someone that’s not embarrassed to be seen with Liam and even if he gets shy easily, still makes him feel good about being himself. Like there’s nothing wrong with them the way they are.

 

That’s not the pretty pistol that tastes good in Liam’s story. He simply thought that his proper superboy was magnificent boy to have.

 

Liam didn’t know how to tell Zayn everything about him that he fell in love with.

 

Instead, Liam only tells him a watered down truth.  
  
  
“You know, you can be really abrasive sometimes.”

 

It was one of many things Liam _didn’t_ think was magnificent about Zayn.  
  
  
“Well that's how I talk.” Zayn shrugged. “If you don't like it, too fucking bad. I'm blunt. I call shit out as it is.”  
  
  
_“Do you.”_ Liam’s eyes roll.  
  
  
“Oh, Jesus Liam. Please, _please_ do not get emotional on me again,”  
  
  
“I'm not emotional!”  
  
  
_“Yes_ _you are!_ I'm a _dick_ and you should know that. You're my fuckin’ _ROOMMATE_ for Christ sake! Have you _ever_ seen me be nice to anyone else?”

  
  
“No! I guess not.” Liam rolls his eyes away with crossed arms.  
  
  
“Okay then.”

 

Zayn turned away again while Liam was still failing to understand what was _wrong_ here. Why Zayn got this upset when they talked about being together now. Was this so delicate that they couldn’t be vulnerable with each other sober without it turning into a fight to the death.  
  
  
“You're just so…” Liam groans with an irritated clinched throat.  
  
  
“So what? I'm _so what?”_ Zayn dares him to just say it.  
  
  
“You're _different_. When we're together!” Liam laughs softly as his hands fall at his sides.

 

“You're not like a… _dick_ . You always put up this front everywhere else but when you're with me in _our room_ , you're different.”  
  
  
“Well, that's cause you're getting me off in there Liam, of course I'm different. I was high and now I’m not. The principle of causation - cause and effect.”

 

“You’re not _always_ high when we’re together--”

 

“But I'm _always_ in a sex haze when we're together, which is essentially the same thing. Because when we're _fooling around--”_  
  
_  
_ _“-- fooling around?”_  
  
  
_“--- Yes,_ fooling around!” Zayn repeated. “You excite my pheromones or some shit and make me seem less like a dick. There’s a science to this. That's what we do. There isn’t a place for love on any side of me. I'm too damaged to be loved.”

 

For a split second, his eyes seemed too glazed to see exactly where he was looking and Liam couldn’t tell if Zayn was talking to him or saying that to himself.

 

Again, this all reminds him of earlier. Not Zayn’s crushing bluntness. A detail Liam somehow missed before as his words echo in the distance of where their room used to be.

 

 _‘I just don't want you thinking_ **_you’re_ ** _in love with_ **_me_ ** _."_

 

Zayn wasn’t saying he didn’t love Liam. He was saying it was impossible for anyone to love _him._

 

His eyes focused on Liam’s now, pointed to make no mistake in addressing him only.

 

“Don’t listen to what the chemicals in your brain are telling you. Cause, you’re not. I’m just a magnet. We tend to attract these things.” He states flatly, like there’s some kind of science to his empty nihilism too.

 

“You're getting me off because, like you said. It's fun. Maybe I'm ‘different’ because it's the only time I'm able to suppress my inherent need to be an insufferable asshole for long enough to appear to be a decent human being that was born with a soul and not someone who is destined to die alone.” He suggests.

 

“Or maybe I'm addicted to wrecking everything good in my life and if you had any brains at all, you wouldn’t want to be moving anywhere with me. You'd be running for the fucking _door_ before I crash this train next. I can’t control that this is just who I am.” He shook his head to the side with a laugh that softened the intensity of his words.

 

His smile, like every other hole that existed in him, was empty and his eyes might’ve been dry but, they seeped deeper than Liam ever realised.

 

For a few seconds, the sound of Zayn’s self-jabbing jokes became something Liam never noticed before if only he ever stopped laughing with him and actually listened. Like a fragile detail that was in a blindspot this whole time finally revealed itself.

 

He saw this whole other person who wore smiles like holes in his body that didn’t look like belonged to him and said things that isolated him from seeing himself as a human being that deserved to belong to anyone or anywhere. He didn’t think when Zayn would open up, he’d see inside him and understand why he couldn’t love. Why he didn’t want them to make the mistake of making each other the reason for all their emotions.

 

It was almost as if he thought someone holding someone else’s heart in their hands would only result in it dropping and breaking into pieces so the best way to go about things was to keep it to yourself, away from anyone else. Even if you want them to have it in the hopes that it’ll start a million good things instead of bad, not taking that chance should always be the choice.

 

If you looked closely enough, you'll see that the person inside the fleeting glimpse of this crack wasn’t angry or dead at all but… wrecked. Whether or not it had had shit to do with an unloved relative or ex-girlfriend, whatever went on in Zayn’s world that really was an aftermath of some kind of war with himself.

 

Sure, he said some pretty fucked up things but sometimes, it went a little too far and too deep to dismiss it as just “the way he twalks”. Cause Liam can see in his eyes that it’s much more than that. More than alcoholism and a past life to be sorry for.

 

It’s times like this when Liam thinks about how everyone calls Zayn some distant black hole. Something that’s sole purpose in life is thought to seek and destroy entire universes and galaxies but in reality, Liam thinks being this hole is just to isolate himself in his own darkness.

 

He doesn’t want to die alone, that much is clear. But in his eyes, it seems like he’s already looking right at everything he doesn’t want in his future. Something about himself he can’t stop to change no matter how much he might’ve tried.

 

He felt sorry for Zayn. This guy he’s only spent 1 year of his life with that felt like an eternity. It was only a minute ago they were total strangers on opposite sides of Earth but now, Liam can’t even remember his life without Zayn in it.

 

He didn’t have to snoop to know every detail about Zayn’s past or the hear about all the sad things that happened to him. He could feel a souvenir suffocating him inside that he got from it that he wears like an old outfit he only takes off for special occasions.

 

It was then Liam realised that maybe Zayn was a bit more broken inside than he originally thought. Not just his soul but, his heart. He’s already told Liam everything he lost. Maybe he thought he already lost that too.  
  
  
“Look, I’m going to be totally honest with you right now, okay.” Zayn rolled his eyes and looked back at Liam like this conversation was giving him a migraine.

 

It was one of those looks that was so tired, it promised to be followed by the truth because lying anymore was too exhausting.

 

“Everything aside, whatever the bullshit... I love you to death, dude. And I always will.” He tells him, sincere. Then he puts his hands on Liam’s shoulders and adds,

 

“But we’re _not_.”

 

Not what? Not in love? Not loveable? No gay? The gay that also means happy?

 

It didn’t even matter that he’d left it completely up to Liam’s interpretation. The message was just as clear as it would’ve been if he’d spelled it out on a gum wrapper.

 

With Zayn holding Liam’s shoulders, the look in his eye pure honesty, Liam finally nodded.  
  
  
“Okay.”

 

Zayn nods too before they walked off together, another rule silently pinned onto Zayn’s rule book. That this was the agreement that this conversation had passed its expiration date and that they’d never talk about it again.

 

Everything Liam’s wanted to ask him all year and Zayn’s given him a thorough answer today.

 

The answer was no.

 

But maybe Liam’s been asking him the wrong question and caring about the wrong thing. The wrong thing being Zayn’s feelings for him instead of _how_ Zayn’s feeling. His well being and overall emotional health. Things that can stifle his capability of feeling emotion for someone else if he can’t even feel for _himself_.

 

It wasn’t a question of whether or not Zayn was gay or bi or at least, if he was into Liam more than just for his mouth but his company.

 

The question became did he like Liam just because he was lonely and had no one else left to bare what was left of his own soul with.

 

Maybe that was always the real thing Liam wanted to know.

 

All he was okay with knowing now was that Zayn didn’t want to push Liam away despite how close he pulled when they were together. He pulled closer and closer whether they were alone or in public. The next step is lost on him. He wasn’t sure if he knew where it was going anymore.

 

As Liam watches Zayn fiddling with the wheel on his new skateboard, he wonders now if he could ever get close enough to help make all those awful feelings in Zayn go away for good, and not just a temporarily in a sex haze. Or at least help him find whatever he needs that he’s been looking for on his own.

 

Sure, he always prided himself in giving soul sucking head. But maybe he should start wanting to be better at being a good friend too.

 

Up ahead, they were finally close enough to the park to see everyone there. It was pretty vacant. A few children, maybe 3 actual skaters. One of those children being a little girl rolling around on a scooter called Chloe.

 

She was one of Leigh-Anne’s nieces who lived around the corner but she could’ve easily passed for being a mini-clone of Leigh-Anne with her little slanted brown eyes and short baby curls peeking out of her helmet. She’s usually here anytime Liam and Zayn were. Sometimes she sat with Liam and cheered on Zayn skating too.

 

She couldn’t have been any older the 5 or 6 years old, always equipped with a my little pony helmet and pads and stickers trashed all over her small scooter.

 

Liam remembers the last time he was here with her last month.

 

Liam was minding his business and sitting on a ramp as he ate sunflower seeds without much thought when Chloe rolled up to him.

 

“Can I have some?” She asked with an extended hand.

 

Liam spilled some seeds into her hand without any hesitation, smiling as he watched her suck the salt off the seed and mimic Liam in spitting it out without knowing to eat the actual insides.

 

He only gave a snort with rolled eyes, going back to watching Zayn again.

 

He watched Zayn do a cool new move then on his board, flipping it backwards and catching it after barely lifting off the ground. Liam smiled at the little cute smirk on Zayn's face, watching how he held his lip in with his forehead wrinkled as he concentrated on trying to do it again.

 

After a while of staring at him, Chloe reminded Liam she was still there as she spoke to Liam again, breaking his focused gaze on Zayn.

 

At first, Liam thought she wanted more sunflower seeds. He gave her a few then went back to watching Zayn attentively. She repeated it again a second time.

 

“Do you love him?”

 

Liam looked away from Zayn again with wide eyes, his mouth falling open and spilling out mushed nuts. He caught it quickly, embarrassed as a flush creeped down his neck.

 

 _“What?”_ He mumbled with his mouth full.

 

She held out her hand for more nuts to suck on and Liam was reminded that he was talking to a little girl, not a burly jock who’s looking to out him.

 

“You _love_ him?” She repeated and pointed to Zayn as she stuck more into her mouth, adding extra emphasis on _love_ with a serious expression, waiting.

 

Liam looked over at Zayn again, kicking at the ground and kneeling as he rolled leisurely without any tricks for a moment.

 

Liam looked at her again.

 

“What makes you think that?”

 

She shrugged a little as she spits out her seeds.

 

“You do.” She decided simply, like Liam avoiding saying yes or no automatically means yes.

 

“My grandaddy says if you've got someone you love and feel something that's right, you should tell that somebody. How can you expect him t’ ever marry you?”

 

Liam laughed to himself, shaking his head at the ground. Only in New York City would a 6 year old have gaydar and a part-time job as a love guru.

 

“If you want to take it to the next level, you should tell him. You’re eyes can’t speak for you.” she advises him, hopping on her scooter again.  

 

That idea sounded _promising_.

 

“He’d just laugh in my face and tell him to shut up.”

 

“Have you tried?”

 

Liam had never actually thought about that, funny enough.

 

She gave him a smart look with her hands on her hips and her head canted sideways, reminding him that she was Leigh-Anne’s niece and that no one was ever gonna break this little girl’s heart.

 

Liam promised her he would although, he didn’t really mean it.

 

Before she left, Liam stopped, aching to know one thing.

 

“How can you tell?” He asked her as if she’s the older one whose wisdom he needed.

 

He just needed to know what the hell he was doing wrong here. How did everyone always know without Liam ever saying a word.

 

“I mean… how do you know that I’m gay?”

 

When the word fell from his lips last month, it became the first time Liam actually came out to someone.

 

He hiccuped right after, expecting the sky to fall or let out a streak of lightning to strike him or the ground to crack open with a blood-curdling screech as a crater swallowed everyone in the park. But… nothing happened.

 

Life went on. And so did Chloe.

 

“The way you look at boys.” She told him.

 

When Liam asked her what she meant, Chloe gave him the answer the may as well have been the key to his whole universe.

 

 _“Ojos del corazón,”_ She said in Spanish.

 

_Heart eyes._

 

That was the day he learned that this whole time, it’s been his _eyes_.

 

Of course. They’ve got hearts in them.

 

Last month, Chloe taught him that Zayn wasn’t the only boy who couldn’t hide his eyes. He wondered what his prophet would teach him this week since he apparently still had a lot to learn about love.

 

“How perfect.” Zayn’s voice snaps Liam back into the present.

 

“Zero skate pollution.”

 

Pollution is what Zayn called amateurs and non skaters who took up valuable space in the skatepark. You know, the ones who weren’t Liam.

 

“It reminds me of Time Square.” Liam says and Zayn looks back at him.

 

“When we used to go down there at like, 3 AM. When it starts to getting late and the crowd thins out. And I'm in heaven.”  
  
  
“New York is heaven?” He asks and Liam smiles.  
  
  
“When you’re with me it is.”

 

Zayn shakes his head as he throws his arm over Liam shoulder, dragging him away with him after telling him how fucking corny he is.

 

“For the record,” he adds, “You’re not the only one in love with this place.”

 

“Even if you want to leave it?”

 

“I think there’ll always be something to come back here for if we did.”

 

Off to the side, two boys are sat behind at a flimsy table filled with flyers, occupied on their phones since business wasn’t so booming.

 

He bumps Zayn’s hip to get his attention.

 

“Is that one Luck?” He pointed at the one with dreads and he paused a little when he looked up at them.

 

He was pretty cute.

 

Zayn squinted ahead at him.

 

“Yeah, that’s _him_.” He sounded a little accusatory.

 

Liam stills when Luck looks back.

 

_‘Oh shit...’_

 

“ _Please_ tell me that isn’t him.” He stops Zayn too.

 

He looks back at Liam with furrowed brows and squeezes his hand on his shoulder.

 

“What’s wrong? He do something to you?”

 

Yeah, he _did_ something to Liam alright. 3 times. And he does it real well.

 

How do you tell your best friend you fucked his other best friend’s little brother 3 weeks ago?

 

He told Liam his name was Luka. He had hazel eyes with specs of green, a perfect tan and perfect facial hair. He also had a sexy New York accent and the eyes of a dead man. _Clearly_ Liam has a type.

 

Liam thinks the other boy’s name is Anwar.

 

There was a booth in front of them advertising their local business of buying and selling old or malfunctioned skateboards.

 

“If this guy hands you a gum wrapper, the only thing you better give him back in the number 19.”

 

Liam laughed and pushed Zayn off.

 

As they walked over together, Liam couldn’t imagine the amount of awkward they were about to walk into.

 

There was no way this boy wouldn’t remember Liam even though he left Luka the next morning with his three orgasms and not so much as a phone number, notification or interest in ever seeing him again in return.

 

They’ll be forced into the awkward re-introduction which will force either pretending like they don’t already know every intimate detail about each other or explaining to Zayn that they’ve already _met_ once before. But they survived their world war and a house fire. He was sure they could survive this too. There were things more important to him that he could focus on today.

 

He thought that perhaps all he really needed to offer Zayn was the friendship and companionship he deserved. Simply knowing someone was there beside you wasn't so bad.

 

In a city of strangers, maybe all Zayn really needed was a good friend.

 

“Come on Liam PAYNE! Where’s your head at man?” Zayn broke him out of his daydream, waving from far up ahead where he was already talking to Luka and Anwar with a squinty-eyed smile shielding them from the sunlight.

 

 _You._ Liam thought. _Always you._

 

Of all the things it was easy for Liam to be with Zayn... if only it weren’t so easy for him to want more.

 

[ {More Than Friends} ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tJ0k7uerA5g)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All we've got left location-wise: 
> 
> the skatepark → the library → An elevator somewhere in between there and then finally, back to the beginning → their bedroom
> 
> One last chapter :,)
> 
> **Added note for the next chapter: Luka and Anwar are Luka Sabbat and Anwar Hadid (Gigi's little brother and his best friend) just to give you a visual and know who they are + what they look like.


End file.
